


Meet the Mailman

by Doc_Zed



Series: The Mailman [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Humor, Multi, Other, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doc_Zed/pseuds/Doc_Zed
Summary: You’re a mailman in Teufort, plain and simple...but your last stop of the day has always been a challenge. You just wanted to do your job and get your lousy pay, but at the end of this, you’re acquainted (and nearly befriended) with all nine of the mysterious mercenaries...that are probably doing illegal stuff. Hopefully nothing that will trace back to you - you’re just the messenger!
Series: The Mailman [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929649
Comments: 67
Kudos: 201





	1. Meet the Mailman (Part 1)

Somedays you like to look around the empty road of the desert wasteland from your box with wheels and ask yourself the same question your parents asked you when you got an F on that history midterm - “What the hell went wrong?”

You knew the answer to that, of course. You graduated your STEM high school in the top 30%, decided to go for a bachelors in something really smart but you wanted to go somewhere with lower tuition; big impressive degree but less paying on your end so a true win-win. 

And then you realized that the University of Teufort had professors that literally didn’t care because they weren’t even certified. You had to drop in your second semester, and going back home when you said, ‘I got this handled’ wasn’t an option. Plus, money to travel. 

It didn’t take too much to get this job. You just saw the Mayor one day and asked for a job, resume prepared and everything. And boom - he just gave it to you. Didn’t care that you didn’t have a license that was certified to be used in the state, had no lessons in how the heck to do this job, and he didn’t even look at your resume. That last one kinda stung too. 

So here you are presently, riding down the roads of Teufort, New Mexico, going to deliver some mail. That’s right - you’re the Mailman. That’s how it’s been ever since then.

It’s not too bad a job either. Everyone is absolutely nuts and the water is disgusting, so one sip and spit of that and you knew why. (Bottled water for you for now on.) The boss practically let you choose your hours and when you worked, you got paid. One or two days you just took off for mental health days and nothing was said about it - you just went in the next day and worked. 

Mind you, you needed the money and this job was only 20 dollars an hour, so you did your work. Since the population wasn’t so big either you could cover it in about 2 hours, and that included the sorting and placing. So just to get a little more than 40 dollars, you liked to just drive around...and by some miracle, that was counted as “work.” You just had to make the range of hours look reasonable and check-in and out each day. 

Things could be worse...so far, this wasn’t all that bad, actually.    
So why is it that you have to ask, “What the hell went wrong?”

Try delivering mail to RED Base everyday-

You parked your small mail truck a good 0.3 miles away and looked in the distance at the mess of a base. This was the true test of your faith. Everyday - everyday, without fail - you had miraculously escaped all in one piece despite the insane encounters. Sundays were the blessed days. It’s been a month now, and you always saved this delivery for last. 

You swallowed. What would it be this time? Bullets? Knives? Missiles? Bombs? You never knew, and that’s what made it all the worse. You barely escaped the first time, but learned to prepare. 

Your messenger bag was slung over your shoulder and secured at your side. You slipped the bullet proof vest you got last month over your uniform and even brought your handy-dandy letter opener for defense. Truly, you are the image of a knight ready to charge. 

Deep breaths...You’ll be over and out soon enough.

Your legs took off - one after the other. Just had to get to the mailbox-

At this point, you knew where you needed to zig and where you needed to zag to avoid all of the explosive and volatile traps. You were getting so close now..!

There! You made it and not a single scratch! You pant, taking a moment to catch your breath after that Olympic quality sprint. The movies were accurate about that: nothing will get your legs moving like some good fear, especially fear of getting butchered up by heaven-knows-what.

That was that though; you put the mail in the box and sighed. All in a day's work! Now to go home lounge on the couch doing nothing super productive for 10 or so hours and then sleeping and repeating. 

After you did the same 0.3 mile sprint. You got yourself prepared: just think of the prize waiting for you at home...the true relaxation and sloth…

Your legs were good to go in 3...2...1..-

“BLU!!!”

The cry of a slurred and heavy Scottish voice stopped you- Why? Dunno. Must be reflex of fear-    
You had to crank your brain to focus but before you could do too much the ground from under you flew up and sent you with it. You screamed, as anyone who just had a bomb thrown at their feet would do. You couldn’t feel the pain in your ankles yet since the panic of being a good 30 feet in the air was not resting so good with your panicking mind. 

You were crashing down- Oh shit, you might die-    
You squeezed your eyes tight, tucked your head in and hugged your body, curling up as you impacted the ground on your side and then rolled.

…   
Oh good, you actually lived...but god damn, this is gonna be one hell of a bruise, if not a broken something or another. You dared to open your eyes after another five seconds. You went pretty damn far from that blast…   
But knowing the maniacs around there, passingly at least, that cyclops or someone else would be coming after you soon enough to ensure you’re dead, so no time to sit and wail vainly about your sides. 

You got up, but could feel the sharp burn where you hit the sandy ground and hissed out a bit. Straightening your bag, you continued your way to the small truck...so very, very close.

Victory was at your fingertips…! You could almost feel that glorious moment your sore body would have sinking into the sweet cushioning of your residence…

But there was another sudden ping- right in your back. You fell over and groaned, your body just laying on the ground limp…

It must have been a bullet of some sort that had enough force to knock you down. Good thing you got this vest.

But the best thing to do now was lay completely still….just look like you fell victim to the shot and were resting soundly on your dessert grave…

You weren’t too sure how many people stayed in that place, but you knew a few things: there was a drunk guy, a pyromaniac, and a guy who hid up somewhere and shot like a sharpshooter. You only got hit one other time, but the best thing to do in this case was to stay there for a good five minutes, make sure he was gone, and book it.

So now it was just time to lay around and reflect.

Nothing too deep. You didn’t need that right now. Maybe just something you could get from the General Store on your way back...Ice cream? You always could use more of that. Cookie dough? Oh yeah…after all, you deserved a little treat after a rough day like this. 

Blown up, shot at, and worst of all that one chihuahua bit pretty harsh on your shoes...and they were new too. 

Oh yeah, and the bottled water. You had to get that. Maybe some lemonade? Lots of frozen pizza and microwaveable stuff…it was cheap enough. 

It’s not that the cost of living was so expensive so much as you needed to get on your own two feet. You needed to be an individual and get your life together...learn how to “adult” and whatever. Ever since you got here, you could feel it falling apart slowly...especially like these days, where delivering mail was a battle.

Okay, that was enough reflection-    
Time flew by when you did that sometimes: the sun had even started setting. It wasn’t anything too long, but it had at least been 8 minutes.

“Alrighty…” You muttered, safely hobbling back to your ride. “Let’s get the hell away from this place…” 

You took off your bag and vest and threw it on the passenger seat, but instead of the normal flop on the seat there was a thump. And in this case, these are two very, very different sounds. One was normal, you heard it all the time. The other...it was the sound of your bag and vest hitting someone’s lap...You did a double take.    
It was silent still for a very eerie moment...but it ended abruptly as a knife was held to your throat and a man wearing a ski mask and very expensive looking suit appeared before your eyes with a rather prideful smirk. 

“Bonjour..” He said with a smooth French accent. “You will be coming with me now, Mailman.”


	2. Meet the Mailman (Part 2)

“Gentlemen,” The Frenchman who caught you and brought you back spoke from behind your seat. “This is the culprit.” 

The room of eight other men stared at you. “Dear god…” The one in the helmet replied. 

“L-look, guys, I was just-”

“Non!” Your captor said, silencing you and making you jolt a little in your seat. “It appears that the one you cried wolf at, Demoman, was merely a mailman.” The man continued. 

“Aye, but they're in blue, no? They could be a spy..!” The Scottish man said, raising his voice at the accusation, making you lean back in your seat, stiff and uncomfortable. 

“And pray tell why a BLU Spy would walk to the mailbox with no disguise.” The room was silent, the cyclops raising his pointer finger and then dropping it. 

“Fair point.” He grumbled and slugged back a large bottle of...was that whiskey? That would make sense, you guess…

“They’re a communist! They deliver propaganda and advertisements!” The one in the helmet slammed his fists down on the table. 

The man behind you sighed. “The politics in which this one involves themselves is not within our concern at the moment…” He sounded tired of this crap. 

You wondered how often this sort of thing went on. Maybe if you weren’t so tired and beat up after the day and just dragged in here by a knife to your throat and told to sit still, you would find more amusement in this.

“Look…” You tried speaking up again, to which you were not silenced this time. “I uh...I was doing my job, okay? I’m the mailman around here and I really just want to make enough hours so I can get paid. Coming here to deliver isn’t the highlight of my day or anything so if you just don't want me to come around....” 

“But the advertisements…!” 

Everyone looked at the one who said that. Who would be distraught about not getting cheesy ads? 

“Soldier…for one minute, can you not?” The tired Frenchman said. 

It was like everyone but him and the guy slugging back whiskey had tuned out- Oh no wait, that guy looked asleep now...but the guy in the hazmat mask was looking at you. It was kind of freaking you out now…

“In that case, I’m sorry ‘bout shootin’ you down all them times.” The silence was broken by the Australian. “But how are you still walkin’? I know I hit ya.”

“O-oh,” You realized he addressed you. “Bullet proof vest.” 

“You managed to dodge all my defenses?” Another man on the other side of the table with goggles and a hard hat spoke, leaning into the conversation. 

You blinked. “Uhh...yeah I guess…” You shrugged. “I learned the pattern and blindspots so I wouldn’t die while getting over here.”

“Must be pretty fast, ey?” The younger man in the room said, leaning closer to you with that smirk on his face. 

You leaned back in your seat. “Ah...no? Actually, I’m not all that fast...I just know when to dodge and sprint it out...”

Questions started coming at you now from left and right, and you were trying to take them all in, but the room was silenced by a very loud shot. Everyone went silent and you nearly pissed yourself. By the look on the Boston kid’s face, he might have pissed a bit.

The ski masked gentleman who had called this meeting held the revolver pointed up and at a slight 60 degree angle, the bullet mark fresh in the ceiling. They all stared at him, yourself included.

“I did not call you here to make chit-chat with the mailman.” He huffed. “I called you all here so we are aware that this is the issue.” He pointed at you and then looked specifically to you as he said, “We do not need the mail which you send. MANN Co deals with all of that.”

Well, couldn’t he have just told you that instead of bringing you back here? “Okay…” You said. “Then why do you even bother having the mailbox out there?” 

The one in the hazmat suit said something that sounded like it was an explanation...but seeing as the voice was all muffled you couldn’t tell what they were saying. 

“...Right…” You nodded. “Okay then...so...should I just give the boxes to MANN Co too?” 

“Box?” All of them gasped a little and widened their eyes, looking at you like it was the greatest thing you could have said. 

You looked at them all wordlessly as they stared at you, almost in expectation. 

Oh yeah...everyone always likes getting boxes for whatever reason. It was like a random surprise present at your front door. “Uh, yeah...boxes…” You nodded. 

“The boxes can go to MANN Co as we-” 

“Oh nonono you don't, Spy!” The young man pointed his bat at the man in the suit. “If there’s a box, the box needs to make it here!”

“I agree!” The one in the helmet said. “Also the advertisements! They are incredibly amusing, and the propaganda makes great fire power!” 

“That reminds me, I better order some more nuts ‘n bolts for my next little project..”

“Oh, I should get more gauze, I lost my last box somewhere in Heavy’s intestines…”

“You’re bandaids are in my what-?”

More talk freely began circulating around the room for a good minute, as you sat there and watched the escalation reach its climax and then quickly simmer back down.

“Very well.” The familiar French voice spoke clearly out. “You will deliver boxes and advertisements as well as maybe the occasional personal letter. Other than that, all else goes to MANN Co.”

“Cool...so does that mean you guys aren’t going to try to kill me each time?” You asked hopefully. 

“Aye, if ye don’t be runnin’ ‘round in that BLUE!” The now very drunk cyclops said, pointing at your postal uniform. 

“But...this is my uniform. I don’t really have a choice…” You replied with furrowed confused brows. Well, you could probably change into something else, specifically for when you needed to go there, you supposed… 

“Figure something out.” The Frenchman said as he lit a cigarette. “Now then, this is cleared up...be on your way.” He waved his hand. 

“Shouldn’t we at least introduce ourselves? The mate’s been through a bit today, don’t ya think?” The Australian asked.

“Who cares? They’re just a mailman.” Scout shrugged. 

Well damn, okay then. You stood up on that note, making sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone on your way out, but the one with the hazmat mask who had been staring at you most of the time grabbed your sleeve. You looked over at them with raised brows as they said a very muffled name…

It was hard to make out but… “Pyro…? Is that your name?” You asked. They clapped their hands together making happy sounds in response, so you must be right.

“My name’s Engineer, but call me Engie.” The man next to him said, offering a hand to shake. You didn’t want to be rude, so out your hand went to shake his, but it was snatched by another hand. 

“Yo, I’m Scout. Coolest and fastest on the team.” He winked as he shook your hand, raising an awkward chucking in your throat. What was that a moment ago about ‘who cares?’

A large man pushed Scout back, making him release your hand. You looked up at this very large and very broad-built man. “I am Heavy weapons guy. You call me Heavy.” The thick Russian accent was clear in his voice. 

Before you could even say ‘nice to meet you’ to the four members who just introduced themselves to you, you got turned around by a tap on your shoulder and were face to face with the Australian who suggested introductions. “G’day mate, name’s Sn-” 

He couldn’t even get the sentence out before the very intense one with the rocket launcher stood on the table and got your attention in a jolt by shouting. “I am Soldier! You will address me as ‘sir,’ and it will be done so with respect and pride for this country!”

You blinked and the Australian tried again, “I’m Sni-” 

“I am the Medic!” Another man jumped in with a German accent and...kind of freaky smile. “Oh, wait, I was not meaning to interrupt you, Sniper. My bad!”

“Sniper.” Sniper just huffed out his name and put a hand on his forehead.

“Ye can call me the Demoman. I’m the rarest here too- how many times a month- no, lifetime! Do ye see a black Scottish cyclops?” 

“None…” You mindlessly answered the question, and it was a miracle you got to even make that statement out. 

“And the Frenchie with the snappy attitude is Spy.” Scout leaned over your shoulder and pointed a thumb to the guy in the ski mask. 

Great, now to see if you can actually remember all of their names. Not like you were going to be having another meeting like this with the crazies. And damn- What time is it? You still had to get home and sink into the glory of your couch! You could just skip the groceries today.

“Uh, thanks guys…” You said, taking some steps back. “I’ll uh...I’ll find something else less blue to wear when I come around, but I kinda got a place to get back to…” You said, pointing a thumb toward the exit. “It’s been...it’s been a time.” You nodded. 

“Oh..” They all kinda murmured and nodded their head and you gave a small little wave and headed out. 

“Ah shoot.” Engineer said. “I never did turn off the BLU-detecting guns…” 

They all looked at him and then at the door that you just left from. By the sounds of your sudden surprised yelp and rounds of bullets and the way you rushed back in, you found that out soon enough. 

You caught your breath and swallowed. “C-could you...could you lik-” 

“I got it.” The Engineer nodded and went to turn off the machine so you could finally do the walk back to your long awaiting box-shaped vehicle. 

One thing is for sure, you were still saving this stop for last. 


	3. Mailman Meets Pyro

So far things were going pretty smoothly. For a while, you kept a change of clothes in the mail truck so you could change into something red at the end of your route, but you soon discovered your boss really didn’t care. So, you wore red all the way around; just a tanktop and shorts to handle the New Mexico heat. You much rather the waves and greetings over the gunfire and curses.

You had some _ interesting  _ encounters, and given the simple enough names and easy to see behaviors, you remembered who was who. But due to the interesting encounters mentioned, it was  _ a lot  _ easier to do this route last still. 

You got out of the truck, pulling up to the mailbox, easily enough not having to worry about the hassle you had previously. Sometimes Pyro liked to wait for you by the mailbox; they would just sit there and look up at you as you pulled up, like this was the highlight of their day.

“Hey, Pyro.” You waved, to which they reacted the same as they always do, wave and speak in happy muffles. 

That was normally the extent of your conversations with them. You were starting to understand what they were saying from bits and pieces of listening to certain ways they said “Hello,” “Hi,” or even the occasional, “Nice to see you again.” You spoke with them a little more one time when you asked how their day was going...but honestly, it sounded like they were listing out things from their own little lala-land instead of talking about a normal day. You kinda wondered about them…

Well, you wondered about all of them.

“Got a package today…” You said and took out a medium-sized box. 

Pyro  _ immediately jumped up,  _ and it actually took you by surprise. Other times you had a box, they would tilt their head and try to figure out who it was for, which it normally ended up as Engineer or Medic’s. 

“Are you expecting something?” You asked them with a small chuckle. Pyro nodded their head up and down and just snatched the box from your hands before you could even see who it was addressed to. 

“Hey-!” You really hoped it wasn’t something for someone else now,  _ especially not for Medic- _ You didn’t like to think about what happened the last time a box for him was delivered and it had a small bump-

Pyro took out-  _ wait was that a whole axe?! _ Your heart dropped, but no way were you about to lose some fingers stopping them. They brought the axe down on the box about halfway and then took it out and put the axe back from where it came.

You were tense, expecting the sound of breaking glass or something, but that never came. Instead there was a rustle of a plastic bag covering as Pyro pulled out a large bag of lollipops. “...they’re lollipops..?” You muttered more or less to yourself. 

Pyro jumped and clapped, cheering like this was an accomplishment. They opened the bag quickly and pulled one out. They were multi-colored, swirled big ones that you would normally see in fairs. “Oh, neat…!” You said smiling, waiting for them to take it out of your face.

Instead Pyro nodded and said what sounded like, ‘take it!’ You looked over at them to make sure that is what he said and then you nodded. “Okay! Thanks, Pyro.” You said taking the lollipop. 

Did you need this unnecessary amount of sugar in your system all at once? No. But were you probably going to do it anyway? Yep. Not right away of course, you held onto it and smiled at them. They must have gotten that big a pack to share with everyone...or just have themselves, it was hard to tell. You weren’t too sure why they wanted to let you have one, but it was a kind gesture, and who were you to deny it? 

Pyro watched you; looking at you and looking at the lollipop. “...You want me to have it now?” 

They nodded quickly, wanting you to try it right in front of them.  _ Now you were starting to wonder if this was a trick...if it would be sour or something… _

“...” You looked at them a bit unsure, but your hands got to unwrapping it. You brought it up to your lips and gave one more glance from the multicolored candy to the eager looking pyromaniac. 

“...Strawberry?” You asked, tilting your head. Pyro nodded and then started speaking, it was mumbled, but you could tell they were pointing at the different colors and listing different flavors. 

“Oooh, it’s all different flavors..” You said to which Pyro nodded, clapped once and pointed at you. “Well, thanks, I really apprecia-”

They interrupted you and grabbed your hand quickly, exclaiming, ‘follow me!’ through their mask as they lead you inside. 

“Wha- whoa, hang on, but I-” It wasn’t like you had anymore stops, so you quickly fell silent, but where were they taking you and how long was this going to be? 

“Aye, good luck..” A familiar Scottish, drunken voice said from the worn, and out of place looking couch in the mess of a base. 

_ What was that supposed to mean?! _

As you were dragged around the place, you got a few glances from some of the others, but they didn’t stop you or Pyro and more or less just stared. You still wanted to know what was going on-

Pyro released your hand as the two of you made it to a door...that looked burnt and had duct tape all over from what you suspected to be axe-damage. They opened the door and stood to the side and you heard the ‘ta-da!’ they gave you from the presentation. 

You knew they wanted you to stick your head in so you did...slowly. The room looked neat enough, compared to everything else in the base - everything had its respective place and things seemed color coded with the rainbow. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the back wall: it was  _ lollipops.  _

You had never seen this many lollipops in one place- and they were all different from each other. There were swirled ones, square ones, triangle...multicolor, flat color...no color; even transparent ones with scorpions and worms inside- 

“Whoa...there’s so many of them..” You stated the obvious. Pyro nodded enthusiastically and patted your back until you were nudged inside. 

They ran over to the stuffed animals, picking one unicorn up and then a large lollipop twice the size of your face up. Pyro put the two of them together and then pointed to the side with stuffed animals and the side with lollipops. 

It was like for every stuffed animal they had, they had a lollipop for…? “You collect them?” You said, not wanting to guess with your gut, so the obvious it was. Again.

Pyro nodded and started going on about it. You translated it in your head to the best of your ability: it was indeed a large collection that they kept adding to over the years. It was a way for them to bring their dreams to reality. They bought the stuffed animals and then lollipops to match their souls, but they would only keep one lollipop out of the whole bag that they deemed “most special.” 

It seemed a little childish, but it was actually kind of sweet. It was their passion, and they wanted to share it with you...but why you? 

‘It’s incredible, Pyro! Thank you for letting me have one, too.” You said, thanking them again. 

You kind of wanted to ask why they showed you all of this, but you were guessing maybe they wanted another friend? Afterall, they seemed to be living around the same men day in, day out, and worked with them too in...whatever their job entailed. You were pretty sure it was illegal. 

At this point you were just a rough acquaintance that waved to them...maybe this was step one in them trying to get to know you. It seems sweet enough, like a younger kid...but also, they are probably a full grown adult or something like everyone else there and not a child. (Well, you weren’t sure if you could consider Scout a “full grown adult” considering how he was.) 

Either way, it was a way of expression, and it was something enough to make you smile.


	4. Mailman Meets Engineer

You know the feeling when you’re driving and a tune just pops in your head? Well,  _ of course you do because that’s what was happening. _

The radio was playing (a miracle really considering the radio station in Teufort), but despite that there was a certain tune stuck in your head and you couldn’t quite place  _ where  _ you had heard it. It was bothering you so much that you had to turn down the radio just to think. 

Were there any lyrics? No, none that you could remember...that made it harder. Usually you would think up the first lyric you could remember and hum it till the refrain and it would come to you. You could remember the tune at least. 

_ Bu-bu-bu-bum-de-bum-de-bum-de-bum… _ _   
_ _ What instrument was it? _ Not percussion or anything, no. And it wasn’t any sort of brass or horn...it was more smooth and strummy...so a string.

Over the crunching of the dry rocks on the desert dirt road you drove on, your thoughts played the melody over again, trying anything to get warmer to the solution. 

_ Bu-bu-bu-bum-de-bum-de-bum-de-bum-bu-bu-bum… _

You almost couldn’t make the distinction, but slowly the music playing was slowly falling to your ears - your  _ physical ears - _ not just because you were nodding your head along. “That!” You thought maybe it was the radio still playing lowly, so you turned up the nob quickly before the song could end-   
And were quickly deafened by the sound of blaring pop music with way too much synthesizer and drums at full blast. 

You jumped, not expecting it  _ that loud,  _ but honestly, what made it worse was the awful, scratchy layer of static over it. You quickly turned off the radio that thundered the walls of your old box with wheels; if you didn’t, it might break the poor thing.

You slowed to a stop. You were almost at the RED Base, but you just had to get your heart rate down - nothing like full blast music you didn’t expect to throw you off. Plus, they wouldn’t mind, would they? You were on casual enough terms with them. 

But then,  _ there it was- _   
_ Bu-bu-bu-bum-de-bum-de-bum-de-bum-bu-bu-bum-de-bum-de-bum… _

So it was someone playing it on a guitar from a distance..! You looked in the distance where RED Base was. Pyro wasn’t on the porch, so it’s not like they would be confused why you were off-tracking.    
So now it was time to off track from the destination- 

You drove around slowly, trying to get closer to the guitar. You focused on the sound of the strings, seeing if maybe you could identify the instrumental tune as you got near. No matter how much you listened, a title wouldn’t come to mind, but the origin of it  _ did.  _ Well, the origin of how you heard it before-

You remembered, even in the days of being shot at trying to deliver mail, you could sometimes faintly hear this tune. You always just heard it as background, but at some point it must have crept up in your head. 

You came to a stop just before hitting the concrete driveway that led up to the RED Base. You couldn’t exactly call it “smooth;” their driveway felt like the rest of the bumpy dirt road, so having the concrete there really did nothing.

Whoever was playing was right outside the base...probably past those cacti and dry trees. Well...you were close enough to the Base, so you might as well give them their two letter ads; for whatever reason, Soldier really liked them at least. You hopped out, jogging over to the mailbox and then listened to the guitar...the mysterious western melody drawing in toward the source. You had to find out who was playing…

“Hey there, Mixta Mailman~” You heard the very distinct Bostonian accent behind you. Oh boy- you almost felt the eye roll. You didn’t know  _ why _ that guy and his accent got to you, but it did. Probably just from your first meeting; at first he was all like ‘yeah go’ but now it was like he wanted to annoy you with his cocky attitude and smile every chance he got or wanted to “remind you who’s boss.” 

“Hey, Scout.” You said flatly, but still nice enough. 

“Ya snoopin’ round our territory?” He asked, leaning over to you. “Just cause Pyro’s friendly to ya, don’t mean all of us gotta be? Do you even  _ know _ who you’re talkin’ to?”

Looked like it was a “show you who’s boss day” for him. You rolled your eyes. Literally.   
“I know, and yes I know you, Scout.” You said and pushed him back, gently as you could. “I was just heading out.”

Scout nodded, adjusting the cap on his head. “Yeah you were.” He said and then turned around, walking away like he was a ‘big man,’ but still almost tripped on his way in the building.

You let out a sigh. You’d figure out what his deal was  _ one day.  _   
But for now, you had a tune to identify.

You got back to listening in and stepped passed the cacti and dried up greenery, but the tune was gone now, and all that was left was a pair of goggles and a hard hat looking your way. He was Engineer, you knew that much about him. “Howdy, mailmix. What brings you behind the shrubs? You know this isn’t where the front porch is, don’t you?”

“Ah...oh, yeah, I know, I just…” You looked at how he was sitting...on a metal looking tool box, with his guitar on his lap. “I heard you playing guitar, and I just wanted to hear some more to try to figure out the tune.” 

Engineer smiled and chuckled a little. “Well good luck, figurin’ it out, darlin’ - that tune’s of my own makin’.”

He made it himself? “Oh, that’s neat…! I didn’t know you made music. How many songs have you made?”

“Well, buddy, there’s a good bit ‘bout me that you don’t quite know.” He said, picking up his guitar like he was about to play it. “An’ that’s cause yer a mailman. You deliver mail, you don’t stick round here enough to know what we’re like aside from maybe a surface bit.” 

You nodded your head a bit to that...that didn’t quite answer your question about ‘how many songs he made’ but...well, he might be getting somewhere...wherever that was?

Engineer started playing the tune again, but spoke over it. Oddly enough, it worked. Maybe they weren’t solid lyrics, but it just...worked. Maybe it was something about his voice. “You see, mailman, this is where I like to practice playing. It’s quiet and gathers my thoughts together after a long day of flyin’ bullets over my head an’ tryina avoid gettin’ hit by others an’ some of these nasty motherhubbers.”

“I like playin’. It makes the hours go by in a blink, but when yer workin’ like we work, you can’t always hear the notes over the gunfire.” He explained still. “So I play it like this as background. Practice every evenin’ round this time to perfect the last musical note these rotten maggots’ll hear when they get too close.” He smiled at you and played one more concluding strum. 

Well. That wasn’t what you asked for at all, but okay? They were  _ definitely doing illegal shit here.  _   
“...Alright.” You said a little quietly. “...so how many songs have you made..?” 

There was that chuckle again. Now with all that ramble it sounded a tad dark, but not threatening at least. “Well, darlin’, many! I just don’t write all of ‘em down. Gimme a moment an’ I could whip out a random tune on these strings here, but the one I play most is called More Gun, an’ that’s the only one I really wrote down an’ have memorized by the tip of my fingers.”

“Oh, alright. That explains why I had it stuck in my head..” You nodded a little. 

“Stuck in yer head now? Well, it  _ is _ a mighty catchy lil bit, isn’t it?” Engineer said with almost a proud looking smile. “Do you play anythin’?” 

“Oh me?” You pointed to yourself like there was anyone else he could be addressing. 

“Nah, the cactus. Course you!” He laughed lightheartedly. 

Why did you always have to ask that painfully obvious question… “Well, I’ve  _ tried…” _ You shrugged a little. “I’m not that talented, but I used to have a guitar and I tried getting the hang of it. Maybe my fingers just aren’t dexterous enough?” You rubbed the back of your neck and laughed for a second.

Engineer hummed. “I wouldn’t say that...no one’s ‘not dexterous enough’ - it’s really just all a matter of focus, dedication, and commitment. If you wanna play good, you gotta practice good.” An idea flashed behind those goggles, and you could swear you saw the glow. “Tell you what, Mailman...How’s ‘bout after you finish yer work, you swing on back. I’ll show you some things.” He offered with a smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout havin’ a guitar; I can let you use one of mine so long as yer careful.” 

...Did Engineer just offer you guitar lessons? One little chat and you could get  _ guitar lessons? _ This was your last stop for the day...and it  _ would _ be nice to just get out a bit more instead of just spending all day in the work’s vehicle and then going home to binge watch your favorite shows or new ones. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but you didn’t even have any friends in the area you could visit if you wanted to... “Actually, I wouldn’t mind some lessons, but how much would it be?” 

“How much?” He asked, tilting his head. “You mean how long? I’d say no more than 30 minutes, but I reckon that depends. You can’t put a price on music...least you shouldn’t.” 

He wasn’t going to charge you either? Hell, you couldn’t say no to that. You smiled a little. “That sounds great!” 

“Perfect! Just meet back here on..what days work for you?” He asked. 

You hummed. “Any day of the week really. I don’t do much besides...well,  _ mail.” _

“Alrighty then, how’s ‘bout Tuesdays an’ Thursdays?” Engineer said, setting it up right then and there with you. 

You nodded. “That works!” You said with some noticeable excitement in your voice. “I guess I’ll see you then, right?” 

“You bet it, Mailman.” He said and readied his guitar again to get back to it. “Drive safe.” He waved you off. 

Man, you were really getting good at interacting with these guys. It seemed like it at least; you may not be generally close with everyone, but slowly you were handed more opportunities to be more than just a mailman here. It was kinda cool too.

Just so long as you don’t get tangled in their work, you supposed.


	5. Mailman Meets Spy

You finished your delivery and lesson for the day. This had only been your second day practicing with Engie, but you thought you were doing fairly alright as far as getting the hang of the E-minor chord goes. Then again, that was one of the easiest and basic ones, but it’s also used in a lot of different songs, so it was important to get down. You felt bad since you were a bit slow, but Engineer didn’t seem to mind: he wanted to be sure you perfected it afterall. 

Between Engie and Pyro, you had really taken your sweet time getting back to the post office to cash out for the day, but the boss made no mention of it, so it was probably fine. It was only about 45 minutes extra; 30 if the engine decided to work with you. The max your little box went was only 55 miles per hour as old as it was. 

The sun didn’t set until past 8:20 pm over here so it was still nice and bright as you cruised back to the center of town, and the sun wasn’t nearly as harsh a mistress as she was at noon. Your rides back were normally pleasant since there wasn’t anything more to do for the day but relax and soak in your you-time; you had been down these roads so many times you probably didn’t have to look at the road to know what was right in front of you, but of course, you were a responsible enough driver...just in case anyone else would be down these roads. 

Occasionally there was a truck that came by, which you noticed belonged to Sniper after you had seen him better in the front window and were able to put face to name from that meeting. Maybe he came around here to just practice shooting...you guessed, given his name. Everyone’s name seemed to correlate with what they do afterall, that was a given to you and probably anyone else here who still had a touch of common sense.

So why you didn’t learn to check your mail truck for a certain Spy after the first time and given his sneaky nature was a mystery to you. 

Your usual route unfortunately seemed to be blocked by boulders. “Ugh...damnit..” You cursed at the inconvenience. Looks like you would have to take the other road. You hated it; it was so much bumpier and unkept, but at least it wouldn’t be blocked. How this even happened was a mystery to you since it was normally so quiet and the chances for a rockfall now would be slim to none...guess the rocks just gave up. Mood. 

At least someone was bound to clean up this road. It was the main road…

You looked behind you just to check that there was no one who magically materialized and reversed off the road so you could get onto the other bumpier road running parallel. Good thing you had your seat belt too - you hit that first bump and you could literally feel the rise and fall of your gut.   
And you heard the thump and grunt of a body in the back- Never have you hit the breaks harder in your life. “daFUQ-?!” 

You turned around and there was no one there, but then a second later, the invisible man made himself visible...well, as visible as you can be in a ski mask and a pile of papers and a mail bag on top.

“Where the hell did you come from…!?” You shrieked a little, but were really trying to overlap your sudden fright with anger. 

“Facteur, your driving is equal to the devil’s work…” He said, grumpily and nursing his head.

“I didn’t know I had a stowaway..! You better explain yourself, cause I am  _ not _ about to turn this box around!” You said a bit snappy. What can you say, you were frustrated, and this Frenchman wasn’t making anything easier on you. 

Spy’s face however looked a bit more intimidating than your little irritated snap. You sort of felt like a chihuahua squaring up to a doberman with how he looked at you. You wait for the ‘you dare speak to me like that’ tone to come out in his speech, but the next thing you heard was a sigh followed by a shrug. 

“To put it simply, you are getting too close and snooping around too much for a mailman. Not only is it unprofessional, but also is raised for concern.” He spoke to you flatly. 

You blinked twice and tilted your head. “...So you thought you would follow me home? And you think  _ I’m unprofessional? _ ” 

Spy glared at you. “You don’t know what kind of work we do, or you  _ do know  _ what kind of work we do and  _ that _ is why you are plotting to get more friendly…” His voice lowered, with those suspicious eyes steady on you. 

That’s it. You put your mail truck in park and turned around in your seat. “Hey, look. I don’t know what your deal is, and I really don’t know -  _ or care - _ what kind of work you and your little gang of crazies are doing! It’s like I said before: I’m a mailman! And, yes, I guess Pyro and Engie have taken some sort of liking toward me, but how can you expect them not to? They are their own people and if I was hanging around the same men day in and day out, I’d kinda like to have a new face to hang around with too!” You explained, making some hand movements to try and get your point across.

Spy hummed and looked a little aggravated...probably because he could tell you were telling the truth. That’s really how it was, plain and simple. He followed you back for nothing... _ but he wasn’t going to let you think he thought that-  _

“Say you are telling the truth then, Facteur.” He said as he removed the papers and bag from his person and fixed up his suit. “You have nothing to hide, no? Then take me to your residence.” 

“...Are you trying to stalk me?” 

“What-  _ No!”  _ He snapped. “I am ensuring that you are indeed who you say you are,  _ Mailman.” _

“It’s y/n…” 

“Whatever.”

You huffed. There was absolutely no reasoning with this man...even if he proclaimed himself to have the most ‘reasoning’ among the other eight. “...Fine I guess, but buckle up. The detour road is bumpy and I don’t want to explain to my boss how I was later checking out cause I needed to take a guy in a ski mask who crept into my truck to the emergency room.”

“Your humor is dry.” 

“The desert took what little moisture I had in my humor.”

For a faint second, as he was getting to the other seat, you could have sworn you saw a bit of a smile across his face. You didn’t look too long though; you needed to start this old truck up if you were going to get back at a reasonable time. 

You didn’t talk too much to Spy, and he didn’t talk too much to you, so it was just you, him, the occasional grunt either of you let out from the harsh bumps on the road, and the radio cutting in and out. It wasn’t the most awkward experience you had, just...silent and a tad weird. 

You pulled up to the office and put your truck in park. “I’m going to clock out now, you can just stay there.” 

“Non.” Spy said, getting up and out, stretching. 

You rolled your eyes. Wasn’t it clear enough that this was really just the postal office? 

He walked up with you, following behind the whole time. Naturally, no one inside thought this was weird by any means at all; they just smiled, waved, and drank some more of their led-infused water. “Hey there, y/n! Clocking out?” 

“Yep.” You nodded a little, leaning on the counter. 

“You’re a bit later than usual, what’s up with that?” The other worker asked with a dopey smile. 

You huffed. “Ask Mr. Stowaway here…” you mumbled lowly under your voice. The worker didn’t hear you though, and by how they turned around and kept doing...whatever they were doing, you were certain they forgot you were even there, so you just checked yourself out and nodded your head to tell Spy to ‘keep up.’ 

He wasn’t expecting you to hang your keys on the wall by the door. “Don’t you need to get back to your own place?” 

You looked at him with a raised brow. “I am getting back to my own place...keep up.” You said waving a hand for him to follow. 

Spy didn’t like that tone, but he picked it up a bit and hopped to your side. “And why are you not taking the ugly box?” 

“Cause it’s not mine.” You said like it was obvious. “Well,  _ it is mine _ , but it’s  _ the company’s.  _ I’m assigned it when I go out on my route, but it’s not my personal vehicle. I could keep it with me if I had more of a driveway.”

“Where do you stay..?” He asked. 

All you needed to do was stop and point. “Right there.”    
There you were: home sweet home. It was right next door to your work office and door to door to door with your neighbors. It was the cheapest little place to get considering you couldn’t use on-campus housing at Teufort University since you dropped years ago. Sure, maybe they could be reasoned with as nuts as they were, but honestly this was even cheaper than that, and you had better things to spend money on than rent.

Spy’s face twisted with something like horror and the cigarette he had just lit dropped to the ground. “That. Is.  _ Wretched.” _

“Hey, it’s not much, but the inside’s better…What were you expecting?” Well, as better as you could make it. There was always something wrong going on in your little space. On the bright side, it has given you more handy skills. 

But now another thought popped to mind- “Plus, it’s not like you’re staying the night. Get your ass to a motel or something.” You said to him cause  _ no way was he staying there.  _

Spy grumbled, hating what he had to say. “Non...I will go in.” 

“Okay, okay,  _ no.” _ You said raising a finger to him. “Look here,  _ that  _ is  _ my place.  _ I don’t just go into your base and room unannounced- hell, the only time I really went in is when you  _ forced me in _ and when Pyro wanted to show me their room! I could really care less about what you’re doing in there, just so long as it doesn’t trace back to me. I’m really just a mailman, and if you can’t accept that from looking at where I work, what I drive, and the place I live in, then  _ I’m sorry,  _ but you’re not invading my place.  _ Got it?” _ You held your own to him, because you had a line and he was trying to dance into it.

It was the damnedest, cockiest looking smirk that you noticed on Spy now as he pushed you back from him a little. “Well...someone has a spine on them.”

“I’m not an invertebrate.” You crossed your arms. “And you’re not going into my house, are we clear?”

“Very much so, Facteur.” He said as he slipped a hand into his suit jacket and pulled out a fresh cigarette. “I can respect your want to keep me at a distance. I was wrong about you.” He admitted and got out his lighter.

You let out a sigh of relief...at least he finally got it...but now, the day was coming to a close, and though it wasn’t quite sunset, the sun was getting ready to give the moon it’s shift. “Right...you better go find somewhere to stay.” 

“Is your couch available?” He raised a questioning brow.

You nearly sputtered like a helicopter. “I just got through saying-!”

“Yes, but it was worth the shot.” He drew in the smoky addiction to his lungs and let it out, turning his head away from you as he did so. “I’m not wanting to spend the night in this miserable town of buffoons anyway. My money can be placed to better, more useful purposes. Such as getting a ride out of here.” 

The taxi system here was non-existent, and getting Uber was unheard of, honestly...Damn, there goes your evening. You had too much of a heart sometimes. You let out a sigh. “Forty bucks and I’ll drive you back.”

“In that box? Twenty.” 

“Thirty.” 

“Deal.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for anyone who is confused with the nickname, Facteur = Mailman. (That is what I found, however I do not speak French so if someone out there does, PLEASE correct me if I'm wrong.) 
> 
> Another note, I have been trying to be consistent in the updating of this story (updating every other day), however mother nature is a cruel mistress and the area where I live in is going to be under flood and hurricane warning. The power will be out for a week at most, so I cannot guarantee that I will be able to update as quickly as I have been. I'm sorry about the inconvenience for all those enjoying the story, but once the power is back, the ball will be rolling and my fingers will be typing away! It shouldn't be long before I'm back!  
> Thank you to all of those who liked this so far! I promise you'll keep being given this entertaining content (When mother nature is done throwing her tantrum)!


	6. Mailman Meets Heavy

How the hell did you even fit this box into the mail truck? You had  _ no idea. _

Well, you did have an idea. It was with the help of 9 people passing by, yourself, and some divine miracle...but how the hell were you going to remove it? 

This box was not only the heaviest, but it was bent a little so it was awkward to get a hold of too, and you didn’t want a complaint on damage, even if you doubted one of the guys here would file it (except maybe Spy). Yes indeed, you were back at your last stop of the day and struggling like ever. Pyro watched you, tilting their head. 

You stood back in your failed attempt to move it and looked over at the silent little guy who was staring away. “You gonna help?” 

They shook their head and you sighed. “Okay…”    
It’s not like you could really do anything about it. Who were you to squash their amusement watching you? But still, you wanted this thing off so you could get back to your place...the couch and TV called your name more than ever tonight. 

“What’s a matter, toots? Can’t move a lil ole heavy box?” You heard a voice coming behind you.  _ Oh great, even better.  _

“Scout, not in the mood.” You huffed. 

He laughed a little. “Sure, sure; like your mood has a play in how Imma behave toward ya.” Scout swung his bat around playfully, practicing some moves or something. You weren’t too sure. “Here, step aside, Mailman- watch a  _ real male man at work…!” _

Oh god, the play on words was just  _ terrible... _ but what he lacked in humor, he made up for with struggling amusement. Scout grunted, also failing to lift the box, but vainly kept going back at it. “It’ll budge, just give it a minute-” 

Pyro let out some chuckles, and that got you chuckling a little too, but Scout didn’t seem to appreciate it. 

“Well fine!” He snapped and stopped, probably giving his red, strained fingers a break. “You do it yourself!” 

You crossed your arms. “I couldn’t do it by myself...it took me and nine other guys to lift this on there.” You explained. 

Suddenly there was a loud, exclamatory muffle from Pyro and they jumped up to their feet, both you and Scout looking over and taking a surprised step back. They pointed at you,then Scout, then themselves...and then waved their hands around, muffling all the way through with a brilliant explanation. 

“...Huh?” Scout tilted his head. “Speak up, firefart.” 

But you got it and nodded. “Actually, that’s a great idea..!” Scout furrowed his brows and looked over at you. “They said if it took me and nine other men to move it, then maybe that’s what we need to do - everyone helps lift the box off!”

“Teamwork?” Scout said dryly. “Ew. You sound cheesy as hell, Mailman. That’s stupid-” 

The next second there was an axe by Scout’s face and a glaring Pyro saying, ‘it was MY idea!’ He may have pissed himself in the moment as he stumbled back and hit his ass on the ground. 

“Whoa, simmer down, Pyro.” You said holding up your hands and stepping away. Even if the axe wasn’t pointed to you, you had reason to worry. Pyro grumbled and put it away, about to offer a hand to Scout, but he got up without any help, dusting himself off in a huff. 

“Who’s the dang thing for anyway?” Scout said, crossing his arms.

You looked over at the package, trying to find the name. You actually weren’t sure yourself. “I don’t know...it just says ‘heavy.’”

“Did someone say name?” a thick Russian voice spoke from the doorway, bending down a little to get out the exit.    
_ Ooohhh...Heavy as in ‘Heavy’... _

“A-actually yes.” You said, stammering as he got closer because-  _ Wow, that’s the tallest and biggest guy you’ve ever seen. _ “You’re Heavy, right?” You sort of remembered him from when you were brought in that one time, but you must have forgotten the sheer size of this man. He could snap someone like a toothpick. 

Heavy nodded. “I am.” 

“Could this be yours, by chance..?” You said, stepping out of the way of the view of the monster-sized box in your mail truck. 

“What does box say?” He asked, not going over to it or claiming it as his right away. 

You turned to it, once again trying to find a name. “I’m not sure...it says ‘Heavy’, but that could also be because the box is heavy..?” You spoke with uncertainty. 

“It’s definitely yours, big guy.” Scout said, leaning on Heavy and patted his arm like they were super close chums, but the way Heavy glared at Scout said otherwise. You watched as Scout slowly removed himself and backed away to the porch and closer to the door. 

“Don’t touch Sasha.” He called after him, but the Bostonian was out of sight. 

You stood there, both you and Pyro looking up at Heavy. “Let me see box.” He hummed, stepping over and  _ picked up the box like it was no big deal. _ You watched, jaw dropping as all he really did was grunt as he set it down, steadily as he could about 6 feet from the truck. “Oh, that is a little heavy. How did you get that in there?” He asked, looking over to you. 

Your mouth was still gapped but you closed it. “I-I...well it wasn’t just me-”

“No matter.” He shrugged and read the box. “Yes. This is my box. I got more rounds for Sasha.”

_ That had to be a lot of rounds for it to weigh that much… _ “Sasha?” You asked aloud without even thinking. 

“She is my heavy weapon.” Heavy smiled and nodded, the look on his face simultaneously pleased and kinda freaky.

“Oh…” You nodded a bit, and noticed how Pyro mocked your head bobbing up and down. Of course she was a gun, why else would he have gotten rounds for her? 

“She fires two hundred dollar custom two cartridges at ten thousand rounds per minute.” Heavy continued like he proudly said this quite a bit. “It cost four hundred thousand dollars to fire this weapon for twelve seconds.”

_Holy shit, was it really necessary for him to have THAT MUCH?_   
You didn’t even know what to say to that.   
….  
 _Can you even imagine what you would be able to do if you had that kind of money at your disposal???_

You may not have spoken, but the shock on your face was enough to make Heavy burst out in laughter. You didn’t even register he was laughing until three seconds later. You awkwardly joined in, more concerned than anything. Pyro having heard this a thousand or so times (probably) just looked between the two of you and went back to sit on the porch.

“W-wow...what kind of job gets you paychecks like  _ that?” _ you said, still with the concerned chuckle, but now dying down as his merry laughter did too.

“Illegal work.” He answered, plain and simple. “Very good pay. Much better than any check I could be working towards with a Russian Literature PhD.”

_ You knew it, and that was your confirmation. _

“You have a Russian Literature PhD?” You asked, interested; not in a doubting sort of way, but, well, with heuristics in mind, he certainly didn’t seem like someone who would have a doctorate. That was pretty cool...he probably didn’t get it from here…

Heavy nodded. “I do. Took much studying, but I suppose it was worth it in the end. At least for experience. Value wise, it doesn’t come in handy often as I work with gun, not degree.”

That certainly made sense…

“But money did help pay off college.” He added right at the end before your mind could wander. 

_ Luck him... _ Thankfully, since you figured out how much Teufort’s University sucked, you dropped before you really had any student loans; just using some scholarship money and money you had set aside and saved up...but now that was good cash gone. 

_ It must be real nice to be making that kind of money though... _

Your face must have seemed too contemplative as Heavy spoke up again. “Don’t get involved in this work, Mailman. Trust me, it is for the best.” 

You jerked out of your thoughts. “Huh- Oh, I- I wasn’t thinking about it!” You chuckled and held out your hands. “My job is stable enough as it is, and I don’t think I could really handle all that kind of heavy weapon stuff everyday...just so long as your work stays your work and I don’t get tied into anything illegal then we’re good!” You gave a thumbs up. 

Heavy nodded and also gave a thumbs up with his hand that was nearly twice the size of your head. “That is good mindset. You have a positive view.” 

Was it really that positive…? “Uh, thanks...I guess I’ll see you around…” You said, giving him a wave as you started heading over to your little box-mobile. You weren’t really sure if you had that ‘positive view’ Heavy mentioned, but you did want to stay out of illegal stuff. If anything got traced back to you-  _ oh man… _

You waved over to Pyro and they merrily waved as well, as you stepped up to your seat and sat down-

To which the entire mail truck sank, groaned, and  _ slammed on the ground. _

_ Oh fuck… _

You jumped in your seat and then out of the truck. “No..!” You shouted in dismay as you saw the tires, all four of them flat and the bottom of the little truck nearly touching the ground. It must have finally given up with all the weight on it for as old as it was. 

“Oh...that is not good.” Heavy hummed looking at it with you.

What about getting home? Checking out of work and lounging in the sweet glory of sloth and televised bliss? All of that was gone now, right before your eyes. “My ride…” You whimpered. 

“Oof. Good luck getting a repair guy out here!” Scout’s voice shouted from inside. 

Everything was silent and hung in the air like a memorial for the old krusty box which was once your comrade in delivery services.

Heavy and Pyro looked at you and Heavy finally spoke up. “..You want to come in? I can make sandwiches.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hurricanes passed and there was minimal damage in my area; there were still somethings that needed help but it was nothing too major for me or anyone around me, so thank you for waiting up on me! I'm only a little off schedule with my postings but I will be back at it again.
> 
> I'm going to be posting every other day (as I was before), but another note I'd like to throw out there is that I am working towards my degree, so the posts may be a bit off on the times in the day. Nonetheless I will get this story out and if anything comes up I'll throw it in the notes. 
> 
> I also just want to say thank you for all the love on this fic because I thought it was a fun little idea (that I had for quite a while) and I'm super happy others are enjoying it too <3  
> So all in all, this is one big thank you note! THANK YOU! <3<3<3


	7. Mailman Meets Scout

So there you were - not on your couch, not with the soft blue light glow of television on your face, and not wrapped up in a nice blanket like you wanted to be. No...you were at RED Base still, sandwich in hand and eyes looking at the table. “What am I even going to do…” You mumbled to yourself.

Pyro sounded like they were trying to pitch an idea to you, but you couldn’t really make it out as caught up in your own worries as you were. 

Spy walked in at some point, and you didn’t need to look up to feel that questioning glance at you “What is Facteur still doing here?” 

“The truck broke. They are here now.” Heavy explained in the simplest terms. 

Spy gave something like a combo scoff-laugh and grabbed more cigarettes off of the counter. “Good luck.” He said, ruffling the top of your scalp before heading out.

If he were just an inch closer, you could have smacked him, but instead it looked like you flailed and gave an irritated huff. You just needed to ignore him...it’s not like you were  _ completely stuck here.  _

“Hey, uh...doesn’t that uh..the Sniper guy have a truck or something?” You asked. 

“He does.” Heavy nodded, his own sandwich in hand as he went to sit across from you. “But he is not here right now.” 

You hummed. “Does anyone have a phone I could use?”    
Scout turned the corner, re-entering the kitchen; he had left as you had come in. “Reception? Out here? Good luck, toots.” 

You furrowed your brows. “Don’t call me that.” You scowled - of all the names to call, why ‘toots’? It sounded more annoying than usual when he was the one who said it too. 

“What if we ask Engineer?” Heavy said, pitching a brilliant idea that broke your train of thought. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed, standing up, still with the sandwich in hand. “He would know what to do to fix it...Where is he..? I haven’t seen him.”

“Engie’s in the back right now; working in the lab and helping Medic fix whatever that do-dad is called...the one that does all the healin’ or whatever.” Scout added, going to the fridge and rummaging through it. 

You didn’t know what he was talking about but that was good enough for you. You put the sandwich down and got ready to speed to the back...not that you knew your way around, but you had been in here like...once, so that was good enough-

Before you got far, a big hand reached out and stopped you. “You should not go to the back. I will go. You stay here.” Heavy said, handing you back your sandwich you just placed down and headed there himself. 

You didn’t know what they were hiding back there, but you supposed it would be best not to snoop and find out unless you wanted to lose your nose... _ literally. _ From what you heard, that Medic guy was wild, so he’d probably play a bad game of got-your-nose in the most realistic sense if you did go back there. The thought made you shudder.

“Cold?” Scout asked, somehow sliding up beside you, now with a soda at hand. “Stand close enough to my hot-bod and you can feel the heat of a thousand ovens~” He bounced his brows and flexed those noodle arms that, as you remembered, couldn’t do a damn thing to budge the box in your dead truck. 

“Back off.” You huffed. “Like I’ve said, I’m not in the mood. Can’t you pick up on signs?”

“Hey, I’m just bein’ a gentleman here and offerin’ you my services!” Scout snapped back.

You sighed. Again.    
So far, as you have been delivering mail here, you’ve kind of roughly gotten to know some of the guys here, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around Scout for as much as he came around. He was all, ‘I’m the guy in charge here and you are nothing’ to ‘watch me do this and be awe struck by my abilities’ to what seemed like flirting in the most horribly executed way. It was the second hardest thing for you to get...the first hardest being the fact that Soldier would actually get genuinely excited to see the mailed air conditioning ads.

You gave Scout your-go-to response. “Whatever…” 

You sat back down. As quiet as Pyro had been, you forgot that they were right next to you until you noticed how they pointed at your sandwich, asking if they could have it. “It’s all yours…” You gave the okay, to which they picked it up, and left the room...Did they really not want people seeing their face that much? It got you curious…   
Once again: not trying to get  _ too curious. _

Scout took the spot Pyro left, leaning over and looking you in the eyes. You leaned back and furrowed your brows. “...What?” 

“I just don’t see it.” 

“See what?”

“What da rest of ‘em see, what else?!” Scout said, throwing up his arms and then took a sip of his soda. 

_ What was that supposed to mean?  _ “...I don’t get it..” 

“Me neither!” 

“No, I meant, what do you mean?” You asked, still with confused furrowed brows.

Scout huffed. “What I just said! All of ‘em see  _ somethin’ in you!  _ Why else would Pyro wait for you everyday? Engineer gives you guitar lessons, and that’s his private ‘leave-me-be’ time! Spy isn’t up your case or suspectin’ you of anythin’, Soldier goes on-and-on about your glorious advertisements when you didn’t even make ‘em, heck- Heavy just made you a sandwich! You know what he does to me when I just sneak  _ one bite…!  _ I don’t know about the others yet, but that’s half the damn base! _ ” _

Now that he laid it out for you, you guess you could see where he was coming from...You thought about it a little too, but never on the same scale as he has noticed. Come to think of it, just from the way he was speaking he almost seemed...a tad jealous? 

You couldn’t say it like that to him, obviously. With the amount of pride he had, he’d just deny it. “I just figured they get tired of seeing the same eight other faces everyday.” You shrugged. 

“You guys work together  _ and  _ live together. You all have a relationship that’s professional, but it also tips into your personal lives and space.” You explained your thoughts, calmly enough. “Don’t you get sick being around the same people for too long? And it’s not like you have anyway to really reach out to others outside of here; the reception sucks...Maybe they like being able to know someone else outside of all this.” 

Scout was quiet and took a moment to actually think about what you were saying, really listening to what you said. “So...they don’t like me as much cause they see me too much?” He tilted his head. 

And without even implying this being centered around him, he gave it away that he probably was indeed jealous: you popped in here out of nowhere and got attention...the bad kind at first until everything got cleared up. He had been here for who knows how long, and from passing observed interactions, he wasn’t treated the same. 

You hummed. “Well, it’s not just that...you can be a little annoying, you know; coming on too strong.” You stated matter-of-factly. “If you come across with your cocky attitude all the time, no one’s going to really want to get to know you enough to like you.”

Scout scoffed. “I aint  _ that cocky!  _ I’m just good, fast, and everyone else here is jealous of it!” 

You looked at him, and the look you sent did all the speaking you needed. The young Bostonian man sighed. “...Alright, but I can work on it. It’s not like I only got one moodset!” 

You nodded and smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. Just work on it a bit. It’s all a matter of how you come across and tone and all. You’re confident, and that’s a great thing to be and have; just keep in mind how you shine it.” You didn’t add it in, but you figured that the eight others probably had a well enough understanding of him as well, having to live around him...he was probably more appreciated than he thought...but some of the most confident-seeming people have confidence issues. 

“Yeah, shine it on the enemies to scare ‘em more…!” Scout nodded. 

...Good enough, you supposed. Actually being able to sit and talk to him put him in a different light now: all it took was a few minutes and a bit of dialogue. 

“You know, Mailman, I wasn’t sure ‘bout you, but you’re alright.” He smiled, this time with no added smart-assy look. “Don’t see what the others do, but whatever I guess...you uh...you want some fried chicken? I think I got some leftover in the bucket-”

Before his offer was finished, Engineer and Heavy were back in. You guessed Scout had leaned in his seat enough that when Engie announced, “I’m here!” It was just loud enough to startle the poor guy and he fell back, seat and all, into an ungraceful heap. 

You winced and looked down at him. “You dead?” You asked. 

“A bit.” He replied and rolled over. 

“Did you bump your head? Busted your skull? May I have your spinal fluid?” An eager man with a German accent seemed to suddenly appear over him. 

Scout rolled away from him, bumped into the counter and stood up. “No! I didn’t call you!” 

“Oh yes, I know, but I came with Engineer and Heavy. The Mailman’s truck is broken down, yes?” He popped over to your side and looked you over, humming. “Oh, yes, you have a fair enough face…I remember you.”

_ What did that mean?  _ “Uh...Hi...yeah…” You said, stepping back and then looked over Engineer’s way. “Can you fix it?” 

“Well, I gotta take a look first, I reckon.” He said, but nodded. “But there ain’t anything I  _ can’t  _ fix.” 

“Welp. This is unfixable.” 

You, Scout, Heavy, and Engineer got outside, leaving Medic in the kitchen as you all looked at your deceased box. “Unfixable?!” You blinked and said a little louder than expected. 

“Well...not  _ completely _ unfixable, but the parts up in here and even the engine are dead. I could patch it up in half an hour, but no guarantee you wouldn’t explode on your way back. If you want it a hundred percent operable, then I’ll need to see what I got in my case and replace somethings...it’ll take ‘bout a day.” 

Oh no. It was happening.    
You stood there, blinking as your mind was coming across to your limited options. “...So you’re saying I have to  _ stay here.” _

“Yep.” All three of them said at the same time. “Least till Sniper gets back. He could probably drive you back if you ask nicely.” Engineer added. 

“When does he get back…?” You inquired. 

Scout chuckled a little. “At this rate, not till dawn, toots. He’s been out there for  _ hours.” _

“He will be back soon enough.” Heavy said looking over to Scout, but there was some uncertainty in that. “...Probably.” 

You sighed. “Okay…”    
It was looking like a night at RED Base for you if Sniper didn't hurry up. How would you explain this one to your boss?


	8. Mailman Meets Sniper

“Aw, c’mon, y/n! Just sleep indoors!” 

Scout had been vainly coaxing you to get in for the past 20 minutes, but you weren’t having it. “Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“The couch is open-!” 

You huffed, shifting around things in the back of your broken down mail truck. “I know, Scout, but it’s like I told you- I have  _ some  _ standards. I’m not about to sleep in the same household that houses nine men doing shifty illegal work! I don’t want to get tied into anything.”

Scout rolled his eyes like you were being the unreasonable one. “Like one night here is gonna loop you into somethin’...” 

“One night changes a lot of things for people!” You defended your case and leaned back the passenger seat as far as it would go. “Besides, this is a cozy set up, and when the sun goes down it will be nice and cool.” 

Scout looked like he was about to say more but then a smile crossed his face instead like ‘you will be in for something’  _ “Alright… _ Night then, Mailman... _ ” _ He said, gave one wave and went inside. 

_ Weirdo.  _ You didn’t know what he was thinking, but he knew something you didn’t…   
But whatever it was, it was not going to sway you. 

Before this, you had been talking more with Engie. He looked over your truck, did some tweaks internally, and was planning to get the rest of it done tomorrow. He moved it over to the side of the base so it was out of the way of the driveway...not like anyone else besides maybe Sniper would be coming. 

Between the sandwich Heavy made and the fried chicken Scout and you ate, you were fine as far as supper goes. The sun had gone down slowly over the mountains, and as you watched the rocks turn that deep beautiful watermelon red and the sky light up more brilliant than any artwork, you wondered why you didn’t watch the sunset more often. There was a very calming element to it that made it....meditative. It gave you the chance to introspect, but not enough to where you let yourself tear yourself apart in your mind like you usually wound up doing.

You got cozy in your seat- well - as cozy as you could get - and let the hospital-quality blankets Medic gave you cover up your shoulders down to your toes. Pyro had even lent you a unicorn plushie and bear to sleep with and Demoman gave you....you weren’t sure what it was, but there was a pungent smell of way too many mixed alcohols and something metallic. He added, “This’ll knock ye right out.” You were not going to drink that, but you also didn’t want to be rude or anything so it was sitting in the back of your truck...at least you couldn’t smell it from there now that you double boxed it in two empty postal packages. 

You weren’t too sure what the temperature was, but when they say that the desert temperature drops at nightfall,  _ the temperature really dropped.  _ The high that day was nearly touching 100 degrees Fahrenheit, but now it was damn near in the 50s. That’s what it felt like at least. 

There were two types of hospital blankets Medic provided: one was thin and did next to nothing about the chilly breeze, the other was much thicker and warm, but shorter than the thin one. You had the thin one wrapped around you, head to toe, and the thicker one about at your chest down to your toes. This was an okay set up…

Until the wind came. 

You hadn’t slept outside before in New Mexico; even if you were in your vehicle, the door was old and creaky, and didn’t shut all the way, and when it died earlier the window slid down just enough. They were two small factors, but the wind coming from the mountains shook your little box with a fury. You knew that the winds that came from the mountain were strong, but it wasn’t until you were trying to sleep ‘in the elements’ that you realized  _ just how strong. _

Anytime you got near the verge of sleep, something creaked or the wind picked up enough to shake you. You kept getting startled out of your Stage 1 slumber and would grumble and have to try to get comfy again...and the seat was  _ killing your back. _ You got to the point where you were almost tempted to try Demoman’s concoction. Almost.

It happened again and you tried rolling over, feeling an uncomfortable ping in your lower back...this must have been why Scout looked so smug before; the couch  _ would  _ have been better, but you were too stubborn to surrender to wind. Besides, everyone was probably asleep by now. You couldn’t tell what time it was, and you didn’t want to look at your phone, but it was probably late enough to where most of them would be in the back or preoccupied. 

Well,  _ most of them. _

You heard the distinct sound of the rocks on the driveway get crunched under wheels, and the sound of a car engine. An Australian accented voice mumbled something like, “What the hell-” as he got out his vehicle and slammed the door shut.

He was walking over towards your temporary camp you made yourself in what you supposed was his usual parking spot. It wasn’t like you were asleep, so why pretend to be? You sat up and tried to tidy yourself up a little.

Sniper walked up to the driver’s side and peeked his head in only to see you in the shotgun. “The hell ya doin’ in there, mate?” He asked loud enough for you to hear and tapped on the window as a way to say ‘roll it down.’ Of course, you couldn’t since the little thing was dead, so you did the next thing and kicked open the door. The latch had always been loose on the shotgun side so all you really needed to do was kick it open with your foot. Not a safe feature, but you normally didn’t have anyone in that seat so you weren’t complaining.

You tore off the blankets and felt the chilly night air hit your skin; your arms erupted with goosebumps and all the hairs on your body stood at attention. “Hey, uh...Sniper, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s me. Mailman?” He asked, pointing your way and remembering who you were.

“Yep, that’s me…” You answered, nodding tiredly. “Sorry if I’m parked in your spot- ah, my mail truck broke down...Engineer’s working on it, and I didn’t have another way to get back so...yeah.” You explained, your arms folding together, trying to keep warm. 

You were kind of worried about how Sniper would react since you didn’t know him as well, but rather than even minding, he stepped over to you. “Ah gee, you’re  _ freezin’ out here, mate-” _ He took off his vest and put it around you. “Here ya go, it ain’t much, but it’s more to what ya got there- Why didn’t they let ya sleep on the couch at least?” 

You blinked, but quickly thanked him. “Oh, uh...well, they did offer- Scout did…”

“But ya didn’t wanna be sleepin’ under the same roof as eight other men with a shady profession, hm?” 

Wow...this guy really got you. You nodded your head in response. 

“Aight then, no worries...Glad I got back here in time.” He patted your shoulders. “I got a mattress and a small little set up back up in my snipin’ tower over there.” He pointed over to a hightower just past the base. You hadn’t really noticed it before since you never really went back over there. “Frankly, I just get sick of ‘em sometimes, and it’s much nicer up there: you can sleep under the stars, but with wind protection.” 

“Oh, wow, thank you…!” You smiled over to him. “...you’re really okay with letting me stay up there?” You weren’t too sure how to feel about the height and stability of it, but you were tired and so long as it wasn’t as shaky as your truck, you were good. 

Sniper nodded and took out the blankets from Medic and the two stuffed animals from Pyro out from your truck. “Of course; I may be an assassin but have standards, ya know. I can’t just let ya freeze out here...I’m sure your day’s been rough enough already.” 

You nodded, and followed him, holding his vest on your shoulders still. “It’s been something, that’s for sure…” You murmured. 

Sniper paused a moment to put the thicker blanket over your shoulders as well, making very sure that you were not shivering in the slightest. He was definitely racking up on courtesy points.

“I can drive ya back into town in the mornin’, how’s that?” Sniper offered. “Trust me when I say you don’t wanna be around here for long…”

You nodded quickly as you both arrived at the staircase of the tower. “Yes  _ please! _ It would be a huge help, if you don’t mind. I need to let my boss know what’s going on.” 

“Of course, mate.” He nodded, climbing those stairs. He was in  _ much better  _ stair climbing shape than you...but you were also tired and he probably had to get up these every day. He did say it was his hightower.

“Mind ya, we do got work in the mid-morning, so we may need to get up with the sun to do this.” He added before your thoughts could completely trail off. 

“Oh, yeah, I don’t mind that at all…” You answered. You were at the mercy of their schedule after all, so you figured your later wake up time would be an out-of-the-question no. 

The two of you reached about halfway up the hightower and Sniper turned off the seemingly never-ending stairs and onto a small floor. There was a door with a padlock, that he quickly unlocked and opened up. “There it is. A tad snug, but it’ll do ya for the night.” 

It was a tiny hidden away room that would be very easy to miss if you weren’t observant enough coming up here. The room was no bigger than a small office space, and there was an open window in the back that took up most of the top part of the wall. In the very middle, taking up about 85% of the room was an older looking queen-sized mattress with a pillow and a small blanket. It was dark, quiet, and the wind couldn’t shake the building’s foundation if it wanted to: it was a lot sturdier than you thought. 

“Thank you so much…” You said, exhausted, but with every ounce of gratitude in you. You tossed the blanket on your shoulders down, and Sniper set down the rest of your temporary things with it. 

“Oh yeah-” You took off his vest and handed it back over to him. You hadn’t realized how heavy it was before...what did he have in those pockets?

Sniper slipped his vest back on and patted down his pockets just to check. “No problem at all, mate. I got three main points I like to stick to; be polite, be efficient, and…” He stopped and trailed off. “And I should let ya rest now.” 

Had you been less tired, you might have questioned that pause. “Yeah...thanks…I appreciate it...” You muttered out and got on the mattress, flopping. It did have a smell to it, but it wasn’t anything too bad - just sort of smelt like the outdoor desert air and faintly like copper. 

“G’night.” Sniper said before leaving you. He closed the door, not putting on the padlock; you still had an extra ear out on that just in case. 

Now everything was still…   
You could hear the wind blowing, but it didn’t bring the bitter 50 degrees with it. It was much more soothing to listen to now...You could get some better rest up here, and Sniper could take you back to work to explain so you could talk to your boss in the morning…

This wasn’t so bad. 


	9. Mailman Meets Soldier

Alright, this _kinda sucked._

You got a partially-full night of sleep, but one of the worst ways to wake up is at five in the morning via loud trumpet blasting a good morning military bugle call. You jolted awake and sat up faster than you could process from the unexpected noise, blaring clearing right outside, followed by a “GET UP, MAGGOTS! WE GOT TRAINING!”

You did not remember signing up for boot camp-  
If this whole mailman in Teufort thing was all just a dream and you were actually in the military, you would like to go back to that dream now-

You placed a hand over your heart as if to comfort the thundering organ. There was a familiar Scottish voice that shouted from inside the base; you only heard him because of the open windows- “We weren’t supposed ta wake till six, ya bloody- ACK-!” That was followed by a crash of what you could picture as pots and some glass. “Aye, meh head…” 

“Negatory! Five-thirty, but I’m giving you all thirty minutes to dress up and put on your makeup!”

Wow...morning’s at RED Base…  
You’d like to leave now.

The sun hadn’t come up, but the sky was peeking with brighter shades of blue, the sun about ready to light up the morning sky. It was just bright enough to see your surroundings, and now you were remembering how you got here; not that you needed to think too hard about it, but there is an odd feeling after waking in a place like this and not where you _thought_ you would be... _or wanted to be._

You rested your head back down on the pillow with a flop and hugged onto the two plushies that smelt of pine and...something like lavender? You weren’t too sure what that other smell was, but it was rich and smooth...honey? No, it wasn’t that sweet-

 _BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BUM-BA-BA-BUM-BA-BA-BUM_ -  
The trumpet blared again, and you jolted back up. _Again._

No way were you going to be able to get another wink of shut eye with that crazed soldier outside, so it looked like it was get-up time. You huffed, tearing off the two blankets and stretched as you got up. After a yawn and some back stretches, you bent down to grab the blankets. You might as well fold them and wait for Sniper...he had said he would drive you back earlier in the morning.

You looked out the window...Soldier was doing pushups. Who has that kind of energy in the morning? You shook your head...not as if being able to do that was a _bad thing,_ but really because you couldn’t imagine yourself doing that.  
Within another minute, you saw Heavy; he was wearing some workout gear and had a rucksack on his back, ready to go and started his day with a morning weighted stroll.  
Pyro was next out, alongside Engineer; Pyro wore workout clothes, different from their usual hazmat, but still wore the mask and Engineer wasn’t dressed to really exercise, just came out with a handy cup-o-joe and his tool kit. By the looks of it, he was going to get back to your truck soon.  
Spy came out to the porch and lit a cigarette.  
Scout looked like he was still in pajamas and ran right over to your mail truck. “Ey, where’s y/n?” You heard him ask the others quietly, being the first to notice you weren’t in there. Spy shrugged in Scout’s direction, not giving much of a care. 

You wrapped up folding the blankets and stuck your head out the window of the small room, stepping over the mattress so as not to trip on it. “Up here, Scout!” You shouted and waved your hand out. 

Scout was the first look up...followed by Pyro, Engineer, and Spy; Heavy and Soldier off doing their own thing. They all gawked a little, Spy of course quickly corrected himself. 

“Y/n, what’re you doin’ up there?! Sniper don’t like anyone bein’ up in there!” Scout shouted at you, throwing red flags for you to get down. 

“Unless, the Sniper _invited them up there.”_ Spy suggested Scout’s way, exhaling the smoke. 

Scout seemed to sputter wildly, making Pyro and Engineer look over his way. “INVITED IN WHAT WAY!?”  
Spy shrugged. “Put the pieces together yourself: it is far enough away from the base and quiet. I think you know what I’m implying.” 

Your face scrunched together. Oh, _come on,_ no one would believe-

“Am I hearing implications of sexual contact? ON THIS BASE?!” Soldier erupted, staying in the plank position as he did so and looked up over your way. 

Your hand that was once waving, covered your forehead. It was too early in the morning to deal with this…

Sniper came out of the doorway, cup of coffee in hand. He didn’t get two steps down before Scout was in his face. “How’d the Mailman get up there..!” He pointed and shouted your way. 

Sniper leaned back with the same exhausted ‘this is too early in the morning for this’ face as you were making a few seconds before. He pushed Scout back, out of his personal space. “I let ‘em up there. They were freezin’ from the wind force. Sleepin’ in a truck like _that_ overnight isn’t a good idea in the least.” He pointed over to the mailtruck. 

Engineer nodded. “Yeah, I was wonderin’ ‘bout the wind protection in that ole thing…”

“Why not just let them in the base? We have a couch!” Scout continued his interrogation. 

They seemed like tedious but manageable questions, so you pulled your head back in the room. You should probably gather up your things and get down there. You gathered the folded blankets, plushies, and even straightened out the mattress; it seemed polite enough of you since Sniper had been nothing but gentlemanly to you thus far. 

Didn’t take much to head down the stairs, just two minutes of walking it out. You could have gone faster, but it wasn’t worth accidentally tripping...especially not with this long way to go. By the time you were down the stairs, everything seemed to have calmed itself. As soon as you came into sight, Pyro bounced from their spot and darted your way. The next second you were given a big hug like they hadn’t seen you in forever. It took you off guard, but honestly, it was kind of sweet...you hadn’t had someone greet you like that in such a long time, that you couldn’t help but do it back. “Morning, Pyro.” You smiled. 

Pyro muffled a ‘good morning’ to you and took the two plushies from your hands, and went to put them away. 

“Do ya got a good mornin’ hug for your favorite speedy mercenary..?” Scout waddled up to you and beamed with a child-like glow. 

_Well, that was unusual._ How do you reply to that? “Suuure…?” You said and opened your arms to him, but before he could get too close Soldier came out of no where. 

“There will be no flowery hugs and fluffy greetings!” Soldier shouted in your ears and pushed Scout’s face back. “Now is the time for strategic mapping and heavy lifting! Heavy mapping and strategic lifting!” 

You had to cover one of your ears and lean away. You looked over to Scout to see if you could help, but he was getting back up and patting the dirt off of himself, so at least he was fine. Or used to this.

“I’m just the Mailman…” You said with furrowed brows at Soldier. 

Soldier tilted his head. “The who now?” 

“...the Mailman. Y/n...Uh, we met a few times.”

“I don’t remember.” 

You blinked. “...I’m the Mailman.” 

“Yes, male and man makes sense.” 

“No, _Mailman.”_

He looked at you, clearly not understanding. 

“...I deliver those ads-” 

“YOU!” Soldier suddenly shouted and pulled you in close, hugging you to his shoulder. “You’re the one who delivers the ads and occasional propaganda! The messenger of the people; guardian and keeper of written notices all around these United States!”

Was this guy drinking the same led water as the rest of the town? It sure seemed like it, and you were suspecting it before. At least you were used to people acting about as lunatic-like as this, sadly. “Uh, yeah, that’s me…” Fortunately, but also sadly. 

“Okay there, mate, I think ya done enough background on the Mailman-” Sniper said, trying to intervene, if only to help you get your own personal space back...and your lungs. You would like to be able to breathe. 

“You’re absolutely right, Sniper!” Soldier pointed. “I am moving on to getting to know my new best friend!” 

His what now-

“That deodorant ad from last week changed my life.” He said, looking at you, getting uncomfortably close to your face. “I realized that the 24-hour stuff I had been using did not last me two days through the sweating and mud. I would wake up smelling like a fresh pig baking in the heat and surrounded by carcasses, but the 48-hour stuff works....for two whole days! I don’t know how many hours that is, that’s a lot of math to do there- my point is, you’re a hero. And for that, I award you the greatest honor of them all: my approval!” 

You looked at him with big eyes. _How to even respond…?_  
Once again, you were at a loss for words. All you could do was stare at that big, ignorant grin Soldier was giving you. 

You heard Spy hum and quietly say. “It truly _is_ a miracle that Soldier isn’t smelling like the filth he surrounds himself in…”

“Now I just smell like a raw American!” 

You tried to back out of his grip but that wasn’t working. “A-ah...that’s...that’s great…” You tried to sound enthusiastic, but you were too confused. 

The sprung center of attention was broken however, by Heavy, coming back from his rucksack walk...only he was running. Everyone looked over his way. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Heavy…” Engie said. “What’s with the rush on back?” 

“Ms. Pauling!” He said, catching his breath and taking off the rucksack- now that you weren’t several feet in the air, you could see just how big and heavy that thing was. “Ms. Pauling is on her way here to question!” He pointed down the road, no vehicle in sight yet. 

You tilted your head. “Who?” 

“Ms. Pauling…!” Scout said and then looked down at himself. “Oh no, I gotta change-!” He dashed back into the house, pushing Demoman, who had just gotten by the door, out of the way.

You, Scout, and Soldier were the only ones who had different reactions; Spy, Sniper, and Engineer both gaped. Spy, once again, quickly correcting himself. 

Soldier still just smiled brightly. “That’s great! Let’s introduce her to my new best friend here-” 

“You cannot.” Spy said, throwing down his cigarette to the sandy ground. “If Ms. Pauling catches wind of Facteur here, she will inform the Administrator.” 

“The who?” You asked, still looking between them confused. 

“The big boss.” Engineer finished his morning cup of coffee and put it down quickly. “It means you better hightail it outta here, Mailmix!”

“But Mailman just got here!” Soldier pouted, still holding onto you, but not tight enough; you were able to slip out of his hold and finally feel your lungs. 

“They have been here since last evening and all night.” Spy sighed and straightened out his suit. “We should not have any outside ties. Ms. Pauling is doing her job and checking on us and will be sure of just that...and it is best we tell the truth about them.”

Sniper glared. “Course you wanna rat the poor mate out; it isn’t like they had a choice in the matter!” He snapped at Spy. 

Sniper walked over to you and grabbed your hand. “Let’s get you out of here. It may be civil to tell the truth, but it isn’t to throw someone under a bus that just hit ‘em...”

Spy rolled his eyes, but Engineer seemed to be agreeing with Sniper. “When Ms. Pauling gets over, none a ya’ll say a peep ‘bout y/n, got it?” 

Soldier got to attention and signed off with a salute. “Affirmative! We protect the Mailman from the Administrator! I will inform the other troops!” 

Heavy started getting his rucksack back on. “You two leave.” He said over to you and Sniper specifically. “I will distract.” And with that, he headed back out in the same direction, likely going to meet Ms. Pauling before she could get to the front of the base. 

“I’ll move yer truck on back in the ole garage; now get!” Engineer waved, and grabbed his tool box, springing to action. 

Your legs started moving as Sniper was dragging you over to his truck and ushering you into the shotgun. 

So they weren’t supposed to have any outside contact...you coming here and spending any amount of time with them wasn’t allowed for their illegal work. Made sense, but at the same time, it made you wonder how many times they have had to do this before... _if they’ve done this before._ Spy seemed ready to tell whoever this lady was about you.

What was the worst that could happen if the Administrator did find out about your presence? You wanted to ask Sniper, but he seemed so focused on the bumpy road in front of him. It was a back road, so he was playing it extra safe.

For now, maybe silence was best...maybe it was better not to know.  
...And not to get much closer with any of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a quick question for people reading:  
> As I was finishing up the writing for this, I was wondering about making an extra chapter - it wouldn't focus on the reader so much as Ms. Pauling's visit over there. I will probably add it as a bonus chapter at the end (so to keep the order of the chapters with the "Mailman Meets ...") but I wanted to get opinions: would anyone be interested in a chapter like that? Just Ms. Pauling checking in and what the other 8 mercs are doing/saying to cover up the Mailman Reader's presence? Please comment to let me know if you're interested so I can plan for it!


	10. Meet the Demoman

“Do you think they actually covered me?” You asked Sniper.

Sniper hummed, not nodding or shaking. “I sure hope they did, mate…” 

The two of you were waiting out another hour before going back, so as to avoid Ms. Pauling, but there wasn’t much exactly you could do in Teufort. You informed your boss (who hadn’t realized you didn’t sign out, saw the Town Square City Dump, passed by the library with the constant book fire (it made you sad, honestly), and were just sitting in Sniper’s truck, blankets in your lap, in the parking lot that used to be the elementary school as you’ve heard. 

You still weren’t sure about who this Ms. Pauling was, but it seemed that the guys weren’t afraid of her so much as the Administrator. Maybe you should be afraid too: she could do _something_ to you if she found out…

“Hey Sniper…” You asked looking his way. 

He hummed and raised a brow, turning over your way, his focus under those tinted glasses on you.

“I think I should stop delivering out your way…” You said quietly. You wanted it to sound like a fact, but it was quiet enough to sound like disappointment. 

Nonetheless, the Australian wasn’t about to baby you with comfort. He gave another hum and nodded. “Might be for the best. Tanglin’ yourself up in our business is a dangerous game...Headquarters is supposed to get all our mail and send it over anyway.”

You were silent and then broke the air with a sigh. “I know…” 

“Don’t get too bummed ‘bout it. You already had the right instincts from the beginning ‘bout us.” Sniper said. 

You tilted your head. “From the beginning?” 

“Yeah, from the beginning. You mentioned before that you didn’t want to get yourself wrapped into our professions.” Sniper elaborated. “Well, our personal lives and professions overlap; there’s no getting to know one side and not the other in this case.” 

You felt yourself slump and sink in the worn and dulled fabric of the seat. Sniper was right; it was just the truth that you _did know_ from the beginning. This was fun...but it was time for this to come to an end. 

When you got back there; that was it. Final.   
You were going to tell them. No more happy hugs and greetings from Pyro, no more guitar lessons from Engineer, no more Spy sneaking up on you, no more help with packages or fun talk or sandwiches with Heavy, no more cocky smiles and random swings in attitude from Scout, no more talking to Sniper and appreciating his politeness, no more ads for Soldier...but hopefully he’d keep the deodorant. 

And no more Demoman and Medic. You talk with them one-on-one, but you knew them enough to know Demoman was never sober and Medic was hyper with mad ideas. 

It was time for you to just go back to your place after deliveries, and watch TV series until you sleep and try not to drown in the carton of ice cream. It wasn’t a bad thing...but something seemed so plain about it now. 

The ride back, when it started, was mostly silent as you had to think about how you were going to ‘say goodbye.’ You didn’t want to really straight up say _goodbye_ , but you should probably let them know that you won’t be around as often, that way they don’t worry if they don’t see you...not that _some of them_ would worry, but others might.

Sniper was perfectly content in the silence, letting the dirt road and bumps along the way be all the background noise he needed; he was used to it being silent anyway, you figured. Even if you wanted to talk a little, you were alright in the silence too: the silence between the two of you was mutually comfortable....the only thing that made you uncomfortable was the subject at mind. 

He slowed down when pulling up and looked around. “Aight, no sign of Ms. Pauling…” Sniper said as he parked around back where he was before, your mail truck looking in much better condition. It looked fixed _and polished._

But something was different-  
The mail sign was changed: there was no ‘postal office’ blue- it was all red now, and the envelope on the side of it made it look like your own custom symbol more than a simple ‘working mailman’ symbol. 

You blinked. “What’s with the paint job?” You pondered out loud while unbukling, moving the medical blankets you had to the side, and got out while Sniper put his truck in part.

You didn’t see Engie before, but you heard his voice as you got out. He was over on the porch with his guitar and walking over to the two of you. “Hope you don’t mind none, but I figured you needed a new little paint job on yer mail box there, y/n.”

“What was wrong with it?”   
“Too much blue!” A scottish voice snapped out from behind Engie. “Ye can’t be goin’ around here and be wearin’ that much blue! It’s like ye want me ta throw somethin’ your way ta make ye blow up! Do ye want me ta test your flammability!?”

“Come off it, Demoman.” Engineer sighed. “I reckon I shoulda asked first, but I wanted to surprise you.” 

You smiled a little to swallow down the bitter sadness your mind was holding in you: now it would be like a constant reminder on the vehicle you deliver in _everyday._ “Thanks Engie, it’s wonderful, really…The paint was chipping.”

“Yep indeed.” He nodded. “But it’s all good to go now, so you can get on back whenever you need; and don’t worry ‘bout Ms. Pauling, we handled it mighty well!”

“Thank yo-”

“You sure?” Sniper interrupted your thanks, skeptically. “You got _everyone_ to participate?” 

“Even Spy!” Engineer grinned with a triumphant note to him. 

Demoman blinked looking at the two of them and swigged back a bottle of some sort of alcohol. Must be new…

But that reminded you-! “Hey,” You said abruptly, all three of them looking your way. “I still got something for you, Demoman-”

“Fer me?” The mentioned man pointed to himself. “If it ain’t alcohol, I ain’t interested.” 

“It’s alcohol.” 

“Bring it up!”

You still had that bottle of whatever-the-heck in a box in your mail truck, and you didn’t really want to keep it in there...it might just be better to give it back to its rightful owner. 

“Well, if it’s just for Demoman, don’t mind me headin’ inside…” Engineer said. “If you need me, just give a holler!” 

You ran back over to your updated truck, opened the back doors, and got out the box. You thought about taking it out and _then_ giving it to Demoman, but...that stuff was _strong and stank._..so in the box it was! It would be like a present or something. 

When you turned around it was just Demoman on the porch with his bottle of booze that was different from the other...6-7 on the ground next to him. Sniper was heading over to his hightower. 

“Ye got a box for me?” Demoman asked with a shout, watching you walk back with it in hand. “I don’t remember orderin’ anythin’...Did I order somethin’?” 

Of course he would have trouble remembering for as much as he drank...how was his liver still functional? “No, but I wanted to give this back to you since I didn’t- ah...I used very little of it.” Saying ‘very little of it’ would be nicer than ‘none at all’ you assumed. 

“Of what..?” Demoman asked, but you just handed it over to him since you were so close anyway. He opened up the box- it took him a moment because he looked like he forgot how a box even worked. “It’s me bottle-o-knock-out! This is the second greatest present I gotten today!” He immediately started to try and open it as soon as he saw it. 

“Whoa-!” You said, hastily trying to stop him, but also kept a hand by your nose to block out the scent. “Why are you going to drink it now? It’s still the morning!” 

“Oh.” Demoman looked at the sky. “Blood hell, it’s still the mornin’? What’s up with that- EY SUN! SET ALREADY, WOULD YE-!”

“I don’t think shouting at the sun is going to change anything…” You said quietly.

Demoman sighed. “Aye...your right about that. At least I’ll get to fight off BLU when they get here.” 

That was right...at the very beginning when you first really saw any of them, Demoman would call you ‘BLU’ and then try to shoot you down. “What is BLU?”

Demoman looked at you. “Don’t ye know? They’re th- wait a bloody minute-! I ain’t supposed to tell ye! Ye think ye can gimme me own knock-out-juice and bribe me to give ye knowledge?” 

“No-”

“Cause ye can!” 

“Ah, no, no...I really don’t want to know!” You raised your hands to just stop him there. You really _really didn’t need to know._ It would only dig you deeper to connections.

“Oh.” Demoman blinked and then looked at the nearly empty bottle of booze he had been drinking since you got there. “...Ye don’t want to know about anythin’?”

You furrowed your brows, a bit confused. “Uh, no. I don’t. You’re business is your business. I’m just trying to stick to my mailman business. Plus, I was only giving you back the drink because...ah...you seem like you’ll use it a lot more than me.”

Demoman looked at the drink in the box. “Aye...oh no.” 

_Oh no? What did that mean? That was never a good thing to hear._   
“Oh no...?”

“Ah...nothin’...Nothin’...I just got somethin’ on me mind. It’ll go away in a bit, but…” He stood up, putting his current drink down and held the box as he got up. “I should put the box up. I’ll see ye.” 

He was going already? Why with the mood change?   
“Do you want some help?” You offered, trying to think of something. 

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll be back in a moment, maybe ye just...ye think of somethin’ ta do- Help yourself to a drink or somethin’” He waved and went in the building. 

You looked at the bottles and counted them. There were actually 8; one more than you guessed before. You had half the mind to follow him in since you were alone now...and you weren’t about to drink anything since you needed to drive back still-

 _The blankets!_   
You left those blankets Medic let you borrow in Sniper’s truck! Maybe you should give those back to him. You could do that before you go...it helped you stall on telling who needed to be told about you not coming around as often anymore…

Of course, you weren’t sure if you could go to the back...Heavy mentioned before that you shouldn’t. 

So maybe just drop them off real quick inside. Not go to the back, but still be quick about it.   
What’s the most that could happen? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!   
> I know I am SUPER CLOSE to wrapping this thing up, but I just wanted to let everyone know, the school load is already piling me under and drowning me with assignments. I have multiple things I need to get done, so I am going to give myself a week - just a week! - to get everything straightened out. I will post again next week, but I want to give myself time to pace myself with the story so it's not feeling cramped or rushed. Ideally, I would be able to update it every other day as anticipated, but for everything I have to do, I really just cannot do that. I am working on this story for fun and it is something that I enjoying doing, and that is how I want it to stay; I never want something like this to feel like an obligation because that is when my work ends up becoming too artificial, like I'm just pumping chapters out, and the fun-flow seems to be missing. 
> 
> Thank you for understanding and I will get this thing all wrapped up by next week! (And, spoiler(ish) - I'm working on a second-part to this, so there will be many more adventures with the Mailman in the future!)


	11. Mailman Meets Medic

With the blankets in hand you peaked your head through the doorway and uttered a small “Hello…?” But no one was in the kitchen to hear. Cautiously, you looked around and stepped in. 

You supposed you could just drop them off right here and be on your way. Walking over to the table, you set down the cloth and sighed. This might be your last time in here for a while, might as well get a look around- just the kitchen and first room of course. 

It was a small and humble area, lots of space; it could be luxurious if it was set up like so, but nothing seemed like it got remodeled in...years. You could almost feel a spark of inspiration to sort and fix up the place.  _ Almost. _

You looked back over to the open chairs at the table. Maybe it would be best to just wait for anyone here. You looked back around and looped the room, getting back over to the table and then slumped into the seat. 

“Do you not wish to leave, Mailman?” 

The sudden voice behind you made you jolt back up to standing-  _ How could anyone just appear behind you like that? _ “WHOA- Hey-!” 

“Whoops! My bad!” It was that wild German doctor, of course. “Didn’t mean to alarm you.  _ Too much. _ ” 

You blinked a little. “How did you...get here..?” 

“I live here! Why do you ask?” The team’s medical care support unit in one casually swept the genuine question under the rug with the rest of his dusted, unanswered questions he got on himself. 

“I came to pick up the blankets I let you borrow, but you brought them in for me; how thoughtful!” Medic picked up the blankets with a...very unsettling smile. Did he just always smile like that?

“No problem…” You mumbled. 

“Though, you really shouldn’t be inside too long. At least not in one place.” Medic continued as if jumping over your statement.

You shouldn’t? You were in the kitchen before… “Why not?” 

“The Administrator has eyes everywhere!” He said, pointing up. 

As if on beat, you looked up too, half expecting to see some crazy lady hanging onto the ceiling watching you, but thankfully that was not the case...that being said though, you didn’t see any visible cameras either. 

“Why does she have to keep such a close eye on you all?” You wondered aloud. 

Medic chuckled a little. “That is precisely a question that falls in the category of unanswerable; for you at least. But are you waiting for someone, Briefträger?”

Briefträger? Did that mean mailman? Kind of like how Spy called you Facteur? Oh! The question- “Ah...well, kind of?” 

“You are kind of waiting for someone?” 

“Yes...and no.” 

Medic blinked and then laughed. “My! And I thought Spy could be vague! It’s not a trick question...”

You hummed. “Uhm...yes, I am waiting for someone, but not anyone in particular. I was...well, I had something I wanted to say to at least someone before I go.”

“Well, I would like to consider myself ‘someone.’” Medic gestured to himself. “I would understand if you want to talk to, perhaps someone closer to you than I, but I am always an option! I enjoy discussion!” 

You could talk to Medic you guessed; why not? You talked to everyone else here over the past weeks. “Okay, uh-”

“Wait!” He said, raising a finger. “Not here! In the lab, Briefträger. You don’t want to be in one place too long, no?” Medic beamed with a grin that put you on edge as he offered a hand for you to grab. 

You looked at his hand, swallowing back the rising doubt in your mind. He had a point...if ‘staying in one place’ was a point considering the invisible-but-real cameras, but with a smile and invitation like that…   
It would be rude to refuse. 

You slowly lowered your hand into the palm of his own. He had a rather large palm now that you got a look and could compare your hand in his, but the observation was chopped short as he pulled you out of the room, almost taking your arm off. “Let’s go!” 

You held back a squeak as your feet followed one after the other and you went from the living room, to the hall, past different residencial rooms and private bedrooms…Medic talking the whole way about..what was he saying? You hadn’t been listening-

“-and the patient was missing his entire kneecap!  _ The whole thing! _ Of course, not any of the bones in between- I know because I’m the one who did it, but he didn’t know that, he was asleep at the time. Anyway! That is how I got the material to fix my saw! Kneecaps are excellent edges once sharpened-”

“Wait, what?” You blinked a bit horrified and perplexed. 

“What?” Medic asked tilting his head like all he said was typical conversation. “I was just telling you how I was. And what about you? All good?” He let go of your hand finally and dug around his pocket for keys. 

You rubbed your wrist, wincing a bit. The doctor was stronger than he seemed. He had to be all muscle under that coat or  _ something... _ Or your wrist was just sensitive. Or both. “Me..? Ah-”

“Yes, I know! You have something you want to tell me!” Medic finished for you as he swung open the heavy looking door at the very end of the dimly lit hall...that you were just noticing was like a waiting room, judging by the line of chairs. 

“Please, come in! I need to get somethings set up for the day, but I do enjoy company of any and all sorts-” He held open the door for you. 

You looked around the area. There were multiple hospital-grade operating tables with trays of tools neatly placed to the side, though some still looked...used. The counters weren’t completely clean, but everything seemed to have a designated place and they were where they were with some purpose, be it papers, weapons, tools...was that a heart? A liver? 

You were standing still in the middle of the door way, that you had almost forgotten Medic was still holding the door. “Well?” 

“O-oh, ah...thanks.” You said nodding and stepping inside  _ very cautiously. _ You felt like someone else was in the room...it made you uneasy. There were no signs of another body in the room, but...was there another life?

You heard rustling from above and jumped a little, but it was only a dove...with a red stained chest. “Ah, Archimedes! Did you miss me, lovely?” Medic cooed to the little bird as it landed on his broad shoulder. 

You took a steady breath to calm your heart, but then there were  _ more birds- _ a whole flock interrupted your internal ‘calm-down’ session and swooped to Medic. You had to rub your eyes and look back up and around the ceiling.    
Did he- was that normal?

You were going to ask him, but before you could, one of the doves pecked your cheek, much to your confusion. It hurt a bit since you weren’t expecting it.

“Ah-ah, no…! Mailman is friend, not food.” 

_ Not food??? _ Birds don’t eat people-

The dove flew back over to Medic, but within the next moment he moved his arms twice, and as if on command, all of them, save for the one with red stain (that you were positive was blood) on its chest; Archimedes stayed perched on his head. 

“Sorry about that-  _ birds…” _ He chuckled. “Anyway, what is on your mind, hm?”

Right, after all that and you nearly forgot you had something to say. “Oh, yeah...well…” You clapped your hands together. “I don’t think I should come back for a while.” 

Medic paused and looked up at you, blinking. Both he and Archimedes tilted their heads, though Archimedes almost fell off “...Why?”

“It’s just…” You waved your hand in a circle and huffed. “With the work you guys do, you aren’t supposed to really interact with anyone outside. I don’t think it’s  _ right…. _ but I also can’t judge much…” You explained. “I don’t know all of what you guys do, but I know enough to see it’s illegal, and me interacting could get me tied up in stuff.” 

“But Pyro...Engineer- Scout, Sniper, Soldier-”

“I know!  _ Everyone at this point… _ ” You sighed and slumped, leaning against one of the study beds...well, you assumed they were, but they had wheels. Your eyes widened and you flopped to the ground, hitting ass first. You yelped -  _ that was going to bruise… _

As you cringed at your awkwardness, Medic snapped to action. “Well you dropped in the right place, Briefträger. Metaphorically and literally now!” He cracked a wider smile. Archimedes flew off over to the cabinet as if he knew what he was doing...it was impressive. Medic offered a hand down to help you up. “You are caught in the conflict of knowing what is the right thing to do, but also what is the  _ correct thing.” _

You took his hand and stood up. “...That’s the same thing?” 

“Well, yes...but no.” Medic said, taking you over to a seat. Archimedes put an icepack down for you to sit on and flew back to Medic’s head. “Right now, what is  _ right _ for your safety and to keep us in check with our own regulations, you should distance yourself. This means no more friendly interactions…” 

You sat down in your seat, slowly nodding your head. “However.” Medic rose a finger. “You are already closer than you meant to be. It was chance, but you are likeable...more likeable than any other outsider that has come in a while! It’s true, considering you are still alive!” 

Okay...yes, you supposed that was true..

“But because you are more likeable, the more the rest of us will care.” He continued. “We all lied to Ms. Pauling, just to keep you safe. One way or another everyone under this roof is now connected to you in ways no one else you will ever interact with will connect to you. You are the Mailman, y/n. And now that you are linked to us in different ways, I can already think of reasons why the nine of us will feel more...lonely without your presence.”

…   
Wow...how do you even follow that up?

Medic’s serious explanation was finished though, you could tell as he smiled widely. “That is what I theorize at least! You’re quite the topic of discussion during supper, you know! It is why I have been wanting a moment to speak with you and get a closer look-!” 

He leaned in uncomfortably close to your face. You leaned away, back in your chair as far as you could with wide eyes; you felt the frozen particles in ice pack shift with your movement.

“Peculiar...I don’t see anything  _ extraordinary _ about you…” Medic analyzed as he straightened his back.

Okay. _Ouch._

“But there is something about the look in your eyes…” He tapped his chin. 

“...Maybe it was the look of confusion...with a side of wanting you to mind my personal space?” You muttered back slowly. 

Medic laughed in a booming, hearty nature. “Ah, you have a sense of humor! Excellent, excellent…!” But then he stopped. “Though, I suppose I should not try to get to know you much deeper than as I know you now, if you are going to go down the... _ right path.” _

You were silent, but then nodded hesitantly. “...Can you tell the others for me?” You asked quietly. 

“Of course, Mailman.” He agreed. 

Before he could offer his hand to you again to help you stand, you stood on your own. “I’ll be on my way then...thanks for talking. And the ice.” 

Medic smiled and opened the door for you. “It was my pleasure. I will see you...when I see you.” 

You waved. “See you…”    
It wasn’t going to be the last time you came here, you knew that. But just for now you needed space yourself. Not just for your sake - for theirs too. 

You stopped by the doors, particularly Pyro’s. They were the first one to really open up just a bit to you. Right on the porch is where it started...well no- You guessed it really started on your first day of deliveries when whoever started firing at you.

You didn’t have time to reminisce. You spent enough time here as it was already. If you were going to go, you had to do it now...especially if there really were cameras all over.

So to your newly polished mail truck you went; giving the RED Base one more look. You had to tell yourself it was only for a bit. Maybe just a week- no...two weeks. Just some distance. That wouldn’t be so bad? More time for ice cream, pizza, and binge watching…

Why did those things feel so bland now? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes, I know that updating took me a bit more than a week, but honestly I had THAT MUCH piled on me as far as work goes. It's really just project after project...but the ball is rolling! And just two more chapters left to post on this story! (And who knows how many will be in the second part - so more to look forward to.) 
> 
> Of course, it's not summer anymore and I don't have as many breaks, so you can expect my updates after this is complete to be a tad slower - maybe only once or twice week. Just a heads up for the future. Aside from that, enjoy the content! <3


	12. Mailman's Mission: Survival

The radio was actually working today. The music played almost perfectly with minimal static- the little box with wheels really did feel new and improved, singing and sailing smoother than ever. Engineer gave this fix-up so much attention-  _ you had four cup holders now. _

But thinking so much about them made you ache a little. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes, and the temptation to turn around and pop back in was still on your mind. Maybe you really should have told  _ everyone _ and not just Medic. Would that have been more polite..?

Or would that have just made things harder with procrastination?

You sighed. Stop thinking about it.    
Seriously.  _ Stop thinking about it. _

You moved a hand to the radio and turned up the volume with a twist of the nob. It wasn’t your favorite jam, but the lyrics were distracting enough. Sometimes listening to the random-ass lyrics of modern music that played on Teufort’s radio station was a healthy distraction. 

There was a new “popular” artist that arrived just a few days back in Teufort that already became so influential to the deranged people that they were making a trash monument for them. Not that the monument was “trash” but it  _ was trash. Literal trash.  _ Since they were using parts that could be found around the town center landfill. You didn’t catch their name, but the weird lyrics were...something else.

As the odd music blared, you rolled down your windows, not caring how the wind tried to snatch you up - you had your seatbelt on. Just the simplicity of flow took your mind away from...whatever it was on, and gave you an opportunity to lean back as you drove…

Relax…

Everything was fine in the moment…

Well, it was fine until you felt a peculiar sting of a needle point at the side of your neck. Your foot slammed on the breaks and a hand snapped to getting the gear in park. 

_ What the hell- _

You glanced in the mirror, and noticed something sticking out of your neck, as if the sensation of it wasn’t enough to tell you that. Swiftly, you yanked it out and looked at it.  _ What the hell was it even? _ It was small like a pin, but it stung...and had  _ something in it... _ you could feel something warm in your system, going up to your head.

You unfastened your seatbelt and swung open the car door without thinking, trying to find the source of where it came from. If this was some prank, it was  _ not going over well with you. _

As your feet hit the ground you felt dizzy...nauseous…   
A hand went up and covered the side of your neck. You were almost a bit startled by your own actions. Things were getting burry, but you saw a car driving out from the direction that the needle must have come from-

But that was all you saw. You couldn’t even really tell the color nonetheless model.

You dropped.    
Dropped hard...you would need another ice pack if you could get one cause now it wasn’t just your ass that was bruised. 

…

How much time had passed? It was so still and silent...and everything was black. 

If you strained your eyes, you could swear that you could still see color, faint as it was. Your lids were closed though; not sure if it was because you couldn’t move them or because fear wouldn’t allow it.

...Were you dead? Did you die-? Probably not...you could feel something beneath you.   
Earth? Dirt?

You could  _ smell dirt.  _ Not sand.  _ Dirt.  _   
It wasn’t covering you though. It was just underneath you- you were resting on top of it.

And trees...leafy trees-    
You could hear leafy trees rustling with passing wind-  _ and you could feel the wind. _

No, you were definitely not dead.   
And with that confirmed in your mind, you finally had the strength to move your arm...then your other arm...then let them drop. You had muscle movement…

You opened your eyes and they took in the light. It wasn’t that bright, but for however long you had your eyes shut, they had become adjusted to the darkness behind your lids and weren’t expecting this attack of natural light. You’re hands moved quickly to block the midday-ish sun. 

Sitting up slowly, you felt the drowsiness creep away from your body, and your mind getting ready to process some logic thought because now it was time to access the situation. And what was the first and absolute most important question on your mind?: 

_ “What the everliving FUCK!?” _

Your loud, questioning verbal shout pierced the silence of the forest environment you were in, sending the birds in the trees to the sky and soaring far away from you.

Okay. Stay calm…   
You had to control your breath. “Oh god, where the hell am I?” You said out loud, grabbing your face with your hands. “How?  _ How?!” _

Talking to yourself right now was your only grasp of coping with your anxiety and not sending you into an anxiety attack. Your heart was already thundering- you couldn’t lose control right now though- 

You were in your mail truck...something hit you...and you...what did you do? It was all a blur. You weren’t remembering, but you woke up  _ here.  _ You woke up in what looked to be the middle of a forest. The trees were mostly pine, there were some small wild cacti in the area, and the air felt about the same, if not a bit thinner (but that could be because you were breathing so shallowly)...you must still be in New Mexico at least. 

But  _ where?  _ Not Teufort for damn sure. There weren’t any mountain forests like this in miles of that place. More than that, you couldn’t think of anywhere that had pine trees  _ this tall... _ Sure, pine trees were generally a decent size, but these trees were some of the largest, most healthy you had ever seen in the wild. Not that you dropped by in the middle of the wild like this often. 

Your head was still spinning; if not from whatever was in your system, just because all of this was a lot to take in all at once. And so sudden…

Was this the outcome of getting too close to all those strange mercenaries...? Was this what happened when the Administrator found out about people inside and getting too “up in their business?” 

...You were  _ trying  _ not to get involved with any of their illegal stuff- This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t fair at all-   
But then again...when was anything in life supposed to be “fair.” Not that it was a good justification for this situation. You were a person with a life and things to take care of. Saying “this sucks” is a  _ massive understatement. _

Very steadily you stood up. You were coming to the reality of this situation, and if you were going to survive out here long enough to find your way out, then you had to get prepared, didn’t you? Like in those shows...except you had no camera, no map, and other than clothes and a racked-with-anxiety mind that you were trying to tame, absolutely no materials…

Maybe you could trace tracks?    
You looked around you on the dirt and past piles of leaves, but other than where you were laying previously, there was no sign of disturbance on the ground, and you had no way of knowing where you came from.

Great. You had little to nothing.

_ Your phone!  _   
With the glint of hope you scrambled to your pocket you normally kept it in...and then your other pocket... _ and the other pockets- The damn heathen took your phone!  _

Okay, it was official now: You really had nothing but clothing and your wits. You were alone in the middle of a weird forest environment with giant-ass pines, high heat, and location and danger level...unknown.

Looks like you have a new mission as a Mailman - survival.  
Definitely not what you signed up for with this occupation.


	13. Eight Lies and a Bottle of Booze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, this chapter is an epilogue chapter taking place between the events of Chapter 9 (Mailman Meets Soldier) and Chapter 10 (Mailman Meets Demoman).

The car was coming into view for Heavy. It was closer, but not close enough to see anyone leaving the base...anyone, of course being Sniper with the Mailman. That is what Heavy thought at least...he was tempted to turn around and see just how far off they were himself, but he also didn’t want to risk looking suspicious. 

So onward he faced, jogging in the middle of the road till the breaks of the car came to a stop. Heavy paused a moment, took some breaths, and then slowly approached the driver’s side, where Ms. Pauling looked to him with a raised brow, head out the window. 

“Morning jog, Heavy?” She asked. 

Heavy nodded, leaning on the car a bit too; enough to keep it in place but also to hold himself comfortably. “Yes...everyone is still getting up. Things are slow. You came rather early.”

Ms. Pauling nodded to him and adjusted the glasses on her nose. “Yes, well, the Administrator asked me to check on you guys.” She cut to the purpose of driving out, direct as she was..but also with limited detail. All intentional and to observe reaction. 

She was most definitely keen as ever. As Heavy was expecting.

“Sounds alright to me. Can I ride back with?” Heavy asked. It wouldn’t be much, but this could stall things at least a bit. 

Ms. Pauling furrowed her brows for a second by nodded. “Sure...let me clear off the passenger seat…” The inside of her little car was clean enough, but for as busy a lady as she was, she did have a good bit of things: papers neatly organized in manilla folders, piles of weapons in cases in the back seat, and cases upon cases of work that still needed to get touched on by the end of the day. 

Heavy got to the other side and opened up the door to get in, watching his head. “How are you today, Ms. Pauling?” He asked to start some small talk. 

“Busy.” She said with a bit of a sigh. “And what about you? You couldn’t have been gassed that quickly on your jog. We’re not that far away from base.”

“No, no...this is my third lap.” Heavy lied, but did so well. “I was circling the base...it’s a point-seven mile lap.” 

Ms. Pauling hummed and nodded. That was believable. “I see, that’s a fair distance…” 

And with that said, most of the ride was silent going back. Thankfully, they were both comfortable enough with one another not to mind it.

But now the true test would begin: was everyone prepared?    
They pulled up to the driveway of the base and Ms. Pauling parked. “Sniper’s not here?” She asked. 

Heavy shrugged. “I suppose he went out shooting...you know how he is.” 

“Yeah, helps his nerves.” She smiled and put the car in park.

Her and Heavy got out as Engineer was coming from the back, having just hid the mail truck in the garage. “Oh...howdy there Ms. Paulin’...How’s the mornin’?” 

“Well...busy.” She replied, same as she did to Heavy. “And how are you, Engineer? Working on something?”

“Ah...yep.” He nodded his head. “Just patchin’ up a lil...somethin’ on back in the garage. Nothin’ special, you know?” 

“I suppose.” She answered. “What are you working on exactly?” 

Her questions were kicking into high gear - it was definitely inspection time. Heavy looked over to Engineer before going over to the door. “I will go make sure others are up before you come in Ms. Pauling.” Heavy announced, heading in. 

Ms. Pauling almost wanted to follow him, but she stayed there in front of Engineer who had yet to answer the question.

“Well...you know…” Engineer waved his hands. “More or less fixin’ up an ole fridge for Medic.”

“He could have asked for another one if it was holding anything vital.” 

“That’s true, true…” He said, rubbing his neck. “But I like patchin’ up ole things. It’s like a challenge, but also not. It’s...leisure.” He smiled as the cherry on top.

Ms. Pauling nodded. “...Can I see it?”    
“No!” Engineer said hastily. “It ain’t done yet! That’s like askin’ an artist to present their work only one-third of the way done…!”

He was probably hiding something...she wasn’t sure what, but it was unlike him to fib too far from the truth, so she likely didn’t need to see it right now. “Alright...I need to get inside. Sorry I can’t talk more.” She said, getting on the porch and making her way to the door. 

“Ain’t a problem, miss. I know yer the busy one.” Engie waved and watched as she left. “Oooh boy.” He let out a long breath and sat down on his tool box. It would be best to wait this one out here and let the chickens run...and hopefully not get their neck snapped.

Ms. Pauling stepped through the doorway, and the mess on the inside was only active for a split second. She barely registered it, but Heavy looked like he was shouting at Spy, Spy was glaring, Scout looked ready to throw something at Soldier, Soldier was trying to get into Heavy and Spy’s conversation. The only thing that didn’t change the moment she entered the threshold was Demoman, who was passed out on the old couch. When she was in, everything got still rather quickly. 

“Okay...that’s quite a warm welcome.” 

“You know how it is here, Ms. Pauling - everythin’s a bit wild all over, amiright?” Scout beamed. He was not only dressed, but added extra deodorant, (a bit much) body spray, and even brushed his hair...though, it was covered by his cap so only he knew that. 

Ms Pauling hummed, furrowing her brows. “Yes. A bit wild….do you know why I’m here?” 

“To check on us.” Heavy replied. 

“To question us about any person who may or may not be coming around the premise of this secured area?” Soldier asked  _ much too specifically.  _ Everyone looked over at him with a combination of glares and frantic ‘what the hell’s. 

“Yes...precisely.” Ms. Pauling rose a brow. “So do you have something to tell me, Sold-”

Quicker than the mind could process, Scout hit Soldier upside the head with his bat. “WOAH! WHOOPS!” He screamed, with no genuine truth.

“That’s alright! I have a helmet!” Soldier pointed to his military-grade hard hat. 

“Dang...I mean, YEAH YA DO!” Scout started clapping dramatically. “Yay! He’s okay! No real injury- OOPS-” He slapped Soldier face as he dramatically clapped, putting duct tape over Soldier’s mouth. “Oh dear! Soldier, are you okay!?” 

Soldier fumbled to get the tape off his face, but couldn’t seem to get it off. He tried saying something, only for it to be mumbled. 

Ms. Pauling kept her brows furrowed in confusion and a little distraught. “Scout, what are yo-” She was interrupted by laughter which came behind her; the laughter of the residential pyromaniac. “Pyro, Scout, this isn’t funny-” 

“Actually, it’s quite amusing.” Spy muttered under his breath, but it was quiet enough in the moment he said it that it was audible. With eyes set on him, he tossed out his cigarette and walked away to the other room. 

Ms. Pauling looked back at Scout wanting answers. “It was an accident!” Scout announced his bold lie shamelessly. “Look, I’ll take him to Medic. You’ll be alright, Soldier.” He said patting his back and started leading Soldier down the hall as he continued to try to take off the tape, only to get it re-pressed on his face. 

They were all hiding something...working together to hide whatever it was they were. At least most of them were...Ms. Pauling couldn’t be too sure yet. “Don’t suppose you could tell me what that was about, Pyro?” 

Pyro looked over at her and shrugged, not attempting to speak even though Ms. Pauling did excellently at interpreting their speech.

“You don’t know?” 

They nodded and shrugged more, giving a barely audible noise like, ‘no clue.’

_ “Are you sure?” _ She implored. 

Pyro looked at her...then the ground...then the wall...and over and over. “Nu-uh!” They exclaimed and then ran back outside through the door. 

So Scout, Pyro, and possibly Engineer were hiding something.    
Ms. Pauling looked around the room. Even Heavy had left...She would have to go around and look for the answers herself.

Maybe she could talk to Scout again. He was a sucker for her, as much as she didn’t like it, and would probably fess up to something if she asked enough. Plus, if he was in the lab with Medic, Medic would probably tell his side openly enough. 

Running a hand across her scalp once, the lady paced carefully, as if waiting for a clue to pop out in front of her. As they were, the mercenaries were like chickens and she was a fox; a fox that was now in their hen house...but they knew how to navigate their hen house much better and had communication on their side. And chickens can be fierce. Do not underestimate chickens.

Good thing foxes are sly. 

She knocked on the door to Medic’s lab once before opening the door herself. “Oh, Ms. Pauling! Guten Morgen!” Medic beamed as he saw her. 

Scout, who was leaning on the counter jolted up as he caught wind of her name. “Ms. Pauling! What are you doin’ here? We uh- we were just patchin’ up Soldier!” He gestured to Soldier who still had the duct tape over his mouth.

“You mean  _ unpatching his mouth.” _ She said, arms crossed. 

“Oh yeah, yeah...that’s what I meant-”

“Unpatching? But you specifically asked-” Medic began saying, but Scout ran over to shut his mouth too, but didn’t have any tape. 

“Asked for him to be unpatched! YEP!” Scout covered badly.

Ms. Pauling huffed. “Scout, this is getting ridiculous.  _ What is going on? _ ” She tapped her foot impatiently. “You know you should be able to tell me anything…” 

Scout still had his hand on Medic’s mouth and looked around the room, biting his own tongue. He  _ wanted _ to tell her...but he  _ couldn’t  _ \- he couldn’t risk you getting caught- “I...uh...it’s a bit complicated Ms. Pauling…” 

She waited, arms still crossed, but raised, listening brows. 

“Th-the thing is…” 

Medic looked at Scout’s struggle and as if a lightbulb popped over his head, he realized what exactly was going on and  _ why _ he was doing this. This must be part of Ms. Pauling trying to figure out about Mailman- He didn’t know you well enough, but he wasn’t about to let their little mission ‘keep Ms. Pauling away’ fail.    
So he licked Scout’s hand. 

Scout stopped abruptly and pulled his hand away from Medic’s mouth quicker than ever. “What da HELL MEDIC-  _ GROSS-” _

“Yes, I know.” Medic said, keeping his tongue out of his mouth for the time being and rushed over to the sink to wash off. 

Ms. Pauling huffed. Getting answers out of these two was going to be more like asking a clown to sit down for a serious interview whilst in the middle of performing…   
But they would still be easy enough to pry answers out of if push came to shove. 

...But maybe it wouldn’t _have to._   
Spy! Why didn’t she just go to him first? If anyone was going to give straight forward answers to her it would be him...if not straight forward than at least harsh.

“...I’ll come back.” Ms. Pauling said and turned on her heels to the exit. “If I have to…” She mumbled. 

“Okay cool! Lookin’ forward to it, Pauling!” Scout shouted over. “Hate to see you go, but I love to watch ya leave, if ya know what I mean-”

Before more could be said, Medic was back and slapped tape over Scout’s mouth. She could hear muffled curses and muffled laughter from Soldier, but she didn’t have time to stick around for the comedic relief. She had way too many deadlines and really needed answers. 

“Spy!” She exclaimed as soon as she spotted him. 

Spy froze in place as if he had been caught red-handed, but his nonchalant expression didn’t falter. “Ms. Pauling.” 

She took a second to walk over to him and then compose herself. “Alright...I know you know there’s something going on here and something about everyone is hiding from me.” She stated. “You’re not like them in the manner of hiding things…” 

Spy looked at her slightly amused, and as Ms. Pauling realized how she phrased that last part she pinched the bridge of her nose to keep her leaking logic in place. “..You know what I meant.” 

“Well, you are partially correct. I am not like them in the manner of  _ poorly hiding things.”  _ Spy stated. 

Ms. Pauling looked at him, expecting him to continue, but he did not. She glared. “Spy. At this point, everyone’s occupation is going to be at stake. You can’t just all turn on the Administrator commands. She knows someone else is getting close-  _ you know someone else is getting close. _ Who is it?”

Spy looked off to the side and hummed, brewing up a lie like a fresh cappuccino. “There was a service person coming around, but they were quickly blown up and their organs were harvested by Medic. Aside from that, no one has come that close.” 

“That was six months ago, Spy.” Ms. Pauling stated in a near hiss. Her patience did not want to be tested anymore. 

“Then six months ago was the last time for there to be any worry.”

“I’m not kidding around here, Spy.” 

“Nor am I.” Spy said with a very believable, sincere tone before turning to continue going where he was heading before she stopped him.

This wasn’t right. _This couldn’t be right._   
Ms. Pauling couldn’t just go back and tell the Administrator there was nothing. If the Administrator sent her out here to check, it was because _there was something going on here._ But everyone was hiding her from it...maybe because they knew what the Administrator might do. 

But what was so special that it had to be protected, even above their occupations? Sure, she could call them all in and scold the truth out of them, but they were really all working together on this-

The silent air which Ms. Pauling had been thinking in was broken by a snore. A very distinct drunken snore coming from the couch...that had  _ been on the couch. _

And an idea to get to the bottom of it flicked on in her mind.

Carefully she approached the slumbering man. “Demoman?”    
No response. “...Demoman.”    
Nope. Nothing still. “DEMOMAN!”

The said man snapped awake, grabbing the pillow next to him like a shield. “Get back, Nessie- Ye ain’t ever gonna have me forbidden shine-!” He looked up with his one eye. “..Oh. It’s just ye, lassy. When’d ye get here?” 

“About your forbidden shine, Demo-”

“Ye best not be here to take it…!”

Ms. Pauling shook her head with a deceiving smile. “No, of course not!” She pulled out a nice shiny bottle of finely aged whisky that she had actually spotted on the top of the fridge in the base and dusted off. “I’m here to give it to you.” 

Demoman’s one eye widened like a saucer, greedy to snatch it from the lady, but Ms. Pauling was more swift, pulling it back as he reached. “...I’ll give it to you,  _ after you give me answers.” _

“Pyro is the Teufort arsonist.” He blurred out quickly.    
“No. I want answers on-”  
“Okay! The Spy is a Spy! He’s always been a spy and he’s probably BLU too-!”   
_ “Who else is visiting here besides myself?” _ Ms. Pauling finished, even if the sentences were chopped.

“Fine! The Mailman! They’ve been comin’ ‘round and their truck broke down so Engie’s hidin’ it in the back, and everyone’s keepin’ their bloody yaps shut bout them!” 

Ms. Pauling got it. “Thank you, Demoman.” She said, and as promised, gave him the bottle that he had forgot was even his. 

“Aye, beautiful shiny…! Imma drink ye up now!” He stood with the booze which he traded for the one thing everyone was trying to keep secret. The one thing he craved now was this bottle, maybe several more bottles of his own cheap stuff, and the sweet dusty view from the porch.

Mission accomplished: the person was the Mailman.    
All she had to do now was let the Administrator know to which she would likely have to take care of them herself...since getting rid of people with too much information was also her job. 

Ms. Pauling had a lot to get done today...with this new task being a new very likely thing. Good thing she knew just the place a mailman wouldn’t have any clue how to navigate: 

The Firepines. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap for Part One of Meet the Mailman! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying the story; it was a lot of fun to create, and really opened up my view to this little (but vast) fictional world! So much so that I will be working on Part Two: The Gold of the Firepines! I'm working on the outline and fleshing out all my brained has stored up, but there will be action, adventure, and naturally, chaos. It will likely be longer than the 13 chapters I have here, and will give you, as the Mailman, a smoother ending than being dumped in the middle of who-knows-where. 
> 
> Ideally, I will be able to have enough content for this part up and ready to consistently post by next month. I'm not sure about the frequency of the posts, but I promise I won't go over a week without posting (or without saying something) once the ball is rolling. 
> 
> And let me just add one more thank you! Because honestly...thank you so much! I'm glad people were excited to read what I had and let me know my content was worth putting out there. Comments and kudos drove further me forward with enthusiasm, even if I didn't get around to replying to every person who commented; I promise I read every single one and I was just- <3<3<3<3<3
> 
> The Gold of the Firepines will soon be out and I'm hella excited about it too, so I will be back with more content then! Hope you like adventure!


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